Hanging By A Moment
by moxicity
Summary: It was tragic by circumstance, but as time passed, it became clear that everything was in its right place and at the right time.
1. Sureties and Uncertainties

Disclaimer: I don't own Miracle, it's characters or any lines from the movie that may or may not appear as this story progresses.

AN: I'm still learning about hockey but I'm a huge fan of the movie. In fact, I would credit the movie for making me interested in the sport and its history. This is my first foray into writing fics on this website again, so any critiques that you can give will be greatly appreciated.

* * *

"I'll see you soon Craig."

Patti Brooks had walked through the office door for the second instance in a matter of minutes just in time to see her husband end another conversation. Having recently been awarded the job of coaching the US Olympic hockey team, it wasn't much of a surprise to her how her husband had quickly jumped to getting things together. And with the US Olympic Committee wanting him to be ready to hold tryouts in two weeks, it meant Herb Brooks had a lot to do and he better do it fast.

"I think I need to have Frankie on board too."

His statement hung in the air, the uncertainty of his words putting a slight damper to what was otherwise a grand occasion. A tense silence fell upon the room, neither knowing how to approach the subject.

"Herb," she called out warily.

The stormy blue gaze of the man in question lifted from his desk and over to his wife. "You don't think it's right."

He said it more as a statement rather than a question, the couple both having an idea what the repercussions of placing that call could be.

"I have no doubt that Frankie is capable of helping you get things done the way you want them to," Patti started to say. "But being ready to handle all of this is a whole other story. Do you really want to take that risk?"

"There's only one way to find out."

* * *

Herb sat in the den with his eyes trained on the screen, the steady hum of the projector and the rustling of papers the only sounds heard throughout the house. Patti had gone to pick up their kids, giving him some time and space to get a head start on his new job.

Taking a quick glance to the corner of the desk, he eyed the stack of film reels that he was yet to load. Even as the coach of the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers, he had been known to do this – study film about different players and teams – so it felt almost normal for him to be doing it. But there was a cloud hanging above him that relentlessly reminded him that what lies ahead of him was no college game. Seasoned as he was and being a champion coach, he knew he still had a lot of work to do.

He was pulled from his thoughts when a knock rapped against the open doorway, turning his head to see the new arrival.

"What do you have for me?"

"I got information on housing around the U including on campus ones that are willing to give whole floors just for the team, availability of rinks and rental prices, and the numbers of the coaches that you wanted to talk to."

He stared blankly once the reply came to a close. He had said how he wanted some information but he was slightly taken aback by how much more detail he was being given. He shook his head and let the smallest of smiles tug at his lips. That was the reason he wanted Frankie around.

"Can I ask for a favor?"

Herb tilted his head to one side before indicating to wanting to hear of the favor.

"Can I be around when you call up Bob Johnson?"

The teasing tone and the wry smile brought out a short chuckle from Herb. "Leave it to you to find amusement in me having to call on an old rival for help. You've been around me for too long."

"I wouldn't complain."

"These guys might," he said, waving his hand towards the stack of film reels.

"Then they're not worth the look if they do. It's a chance to play hockey in the Olympics, not some summer camp. They should know that it's not just fun and games."

Herb only gave a nod in reply, letting the truth of the words sink in. "Why don't you take a seat?" he said, pointing to the empty space beside him on the couch. "Maybe you can see something that I don't the first time around and this can go faster."

There was no hesitation as Frankie took a seat, even pulling out a small notepad and pen from a backpack, ready to take down notes as if it was for an important class.

"Since you mentioned Bob, it's only appropriate that the next reel is for his son."

* * *

"Dad, Frankie," 11-year old Danny Brooks called from the doorway. "Mom asked me to tell you that dinner will be ready in five minutes."

"Alright, buddy," Herb started, pulling his eyeglasses off. "We'll be right there."

As his son disappeared back into the hallway, he stood to turn off the projector as Frankie took hold of the many notes between them and piling them all into a neat stack.

"Are you sure this is how you want to do things?"

"Was it or wasn't it you who sat down with me for nearly six hours going over this? I even let you sit in on talking with good ol' Bob."

Two pairs of near identical blue eyes stared each other down as the silence stretched on between them. The pointed look he got in return sent a shiver up his spine, reminding him not only of how serious the task at hand was and that the question wasn't posed as a teasing remark, but also of distant memories.

"You know what kind of team I want, Frankie," Herb started. "And we both know for damn sure that the USOC isn't going to give me that if they have their way."

"I know," came the mumbled reply. "It should be an interesting seven months because of that."

Whatever tension that settled in the room was lifted, a more companionable silence taking its place as they got everything organized before making their way to the dining room.

"I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am that you agreed to this, Frankie. I know that –"

"I know about you being worried," cutting Herb's sentiments off. "I think we can all agree that it's understandable. But from my point of view, I need to do this. I need to get back into the swing of things. Doing this with you makes me feel normal again. I'll be okay, I promise."

"If you're sure."

"I am."


	2. The Cut

Disclaimer: I don't own Miracle nor do I own the few lines copied from the film.

AN: Thanks to _phoenixfire53 _for reviewing the first chapter!

* * *

"What's this?" Craig Patrick, the assistant coach, asked as he was handed a sheet of paper.

"26 names," Herb replied, pausing to take a quick sip of his coffee. "The tough part will be getting it down to 20 before the opening ceremonies."

Craig eyes went back and forth from the list to Herb, trying to make sense of what he just heard. "This is the final roster?" he asked, confused. "You're kidding me right?"

The amused look dropped when he received no reply, realizing that the list of names he was given was the first cut of players that they were taking back to Minnesota for training. Still in a state of disbelief, he went on to say how it was only the first day of tryouts out of a full week, alluding to how he may want to change his mind about some of the choices due to some of the best players not being on the list, and even asking about what the advisory staff might say.

All Craig got were short, mumbled replies that barely made sense to him. He became more wary when he was told that Steve Janaszak was the backup goaltender for Jim Craig.

"You know, people I speak to say Craig's game has been off since his mom died."

That earned a quick chuckle from Herb. "Have they ever seen him when his game's on?" he said pointedly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to make a call."

Herb received no reply nor did he wait for Craig to get rid of the dumbfounded expression on his face before picking up the receiver and dialing a familiar set of numbers.

_"Hello?"  
_  
"So, are any of the dorms at the U willing to accommodate 26 people?" he asked, going directly to the point.

_"Isn't Buzzy on the roster?"  
_  
"What's your point?"

_"He just got married. I can't imagine him being alright with having to live away from his wife for the next seven months."  
_  
"I'm not here to cater to what they want. I'm here to put a team together. You know that," he replied evenly. "Besides, it makes things easier for them to be in one place."

Craig wasn't sure who it was on the other end of the line, but his interest was definitely piqued. Even though he was only hearing Herb's side of the conversation, he picked up more information that the head coach seemed to readily give to whoever it was he was speaking to. And while it still wasn't much to go on, it provided a stark enough contrast to the short replies he had received just moments prior.

_"The second floor of Sanford Hall is empty. They were working on pipes or whatever before summer classes started and just recently finished. It's close to the rink, the infirmary, places to eat, so they'll have all they need without having to break the bank on gas."  
_  
"Isn't that your dorm?" he asked. "I guess that works."

_"I'll talk to the dorm manager after this then."  
_  
"Alright. You have a copy of the roster, right? Figure out who's rooming with who."

_"Got it. I'll see you when you get back."  
_  
Herb said goodbye and hung up. From the corner of his eye, he saw the shocked look back on Craig's face. "What?" he asked.

"The roster was done before you got here," the assistant coach uttered softly, the realization dawning on him.

"I didn't ask for this kind of tryouts, this parade or whatever," Herb replied, waving his hands dismissively. "A week watching hockey players do drills won't tell me what they can possibly do in the Olympics. Years worth of seeing them be in actual games, playing against them, talking to their coaches – that's how I know that the list you're holding has the right players."

"Okay," Craig replied, not knowing what else to say. "The advisory staff gave me a list of potential team managers for you to choose from. They said – "

"I have my manager."

* * *

Craig watched as Herb gave a less than impassioned congratulatory speech to the remaining players sitting in the stands, exchanging a curious glance with George Nagobads, the team physician, as the head coach walked off. Turning his attention back to the 26 Olympic hopefuls in front of him, he could clearly see that some of them were put off. He was even a little surprised to find that some of the boys who he knew played for the University of Minnesota had looks of confusion at what they had heard from their own coach.

"Alright gentlemen. Congratulations to all of you," he spoke in a friendlier tone. "That's it for today. On the way out, pick up one of these," holding up a packet of papers. "You got a little homework to do before you celebrate."

A small smile tugged at his features as some of the players chuckled. "You'll be receiving calls from the coaching staff regarding your travel and living arrangements for when practice starts," he continued. "We'll see you in Minnesota."

* * *

"Verchota, you're done?" John Harrington asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

"Me and Janny have done this," Phil Verchota replied nonchalantly.

The group of players, a mix of students from the University of Minnesota and University of Minnesota-Duluth, looked on in astonishment.

"I don't remember coach making us do these when I played for him at the U," Buzz Schneider mused. "Is this a recent development?"

"Nah," Steve Janaszak said. "It's Herb. You know how it is. Just do what he says to avoid bloodshed."

"Jeeze, that bad?" Mark Pavelich asked.

"He's always been a strict coach," Steve Christoff chimed in. "But look at how many championships he has under his belt since he started coaching at the U. He's doing something right."

The rest of the boys at the table mumbled their agreement. The University of Minnesota's Golden Gophers were reigning national champions after all, their third NCAA title in six years.

As drinks were poured and more jokes were thrown around regarding the tests in front of them, Buzz's face lit up, a thought crossing his mind. "Hey Phil," he called. "Do you think Colt will be around?"

The uneasy glance shared between Phil and Janny didn't go unnoticed.

"None of us have really talked," Janny muttered. "We just don't know how to approach it, you know?"

"We don't like it as much as you," Phil interjected, seeing the displeasure in Buzz's features. "But like Janny said, where do you even start?"

"Where do you start what?"

The group turned to look at who spoke, greeting Rob McClanahan and Mark Johnson as they walked up to the table.

"Colt," Janny replied simply.

Rob nodded his head stiffly. "Say no more."

"Come on," Buzz groaned. "Have any of you even tried?"

"Who are we talking about?" Mark asked.

"Colt," Phil uttered. "Gopher team manager and all around awesome friend."

At the confused looks that remained on the others' faces and the boys from the Gophers not knowing what else to say, Rob decided to cut in before Phil could divulge too much.

"Something happened that we're not at liberty to say. It's not our story to tell, you know?" he said. "Anyway, Buzzy's got a point. We should pay a visit when we get back. Check up and all that. Colt deserves to hear some great news."


	3. Private Emotions

Disclaimer: I still don't own Miracle. The Brooksism belongs to the late, great Herb Brooks.

AN:  
Dani - Thanks for your review. I hope you enjoy the story more as it goes along.

phoenixfire53 - Yes, you got it. I'm building the characters and relationships slowly but surely, so any developments won't come out of nowhere. More will be revealed in this chapter and the next. Enjoy!

* * *

"Go on squirts. I'll relieve you of having to help your mom clean up."

"You don't have to do that," Patti said, smiling appreciatively when Frankie insisted.

"You should have seen it," Herb chimed in, continuing his story on how the team had been shaping up the past week. "You would have laughed your butt off and then screamed at them until your lungs gave out."

"I would prefer to be kept whole, thank you very much."

Patti chuckled and shook her head, disappearing into the kitchen start washing the dishes as Frankie wiped the table clean. "I thought you were supposed to help out with the team," she called out. "Haven't you been to practice yet?"

"No, not yet," Frankie replied. "I have classes during the morning practice and by the afternoon, I'm in one of the offices, constantly making or answering calls to help set up the pre-Olympic schedule and other things. I might not get away from that until summer classes end."

"You'll get it done, I know it," Herb said confidently.

"Thanks," came the soft reply. "Anyway, what happened?"

"Two boys got into it," he said. "O'Callahan checked Mac hard, couple of comments came out, next thing you know, they're throwing punches."

"76," Frankie muttered. "Then what?"

"Told them they looked like a couple of monkeys humping a football."

The comment hung in the air, the three adults keeping silent as they let the thought sink in. Patti was the first to snap out of the stupor, jokingly saying how grateful she was that the kids had gone upstairs and not heard that. "I don't think any of us would want to explain what that meant."

The three exchanged glances before letting out quick chuckles.

"So, I'm sure that's what you meant about me laughing at them. What about screaming my lungs out?" Frankie asked as their laughter died down.

"We needed to become a team, so I told them that we should all get to know each other," Herb started to say. "Who they were, where they were from, who they played for – that sort of thing."

"Let me guess, not the answers you were looking for."

"Far from it."

"We've got time."

"You think it would be enough?"

"Big, bad Herb Brooks sounding unsure of himself," Frankie said teasingly. "I wish they could see this side of you so they'd at least have proof that you were human."

"That's what you're there for," Patti said, her features set in a look full of mirth, causing laughter to ring out amongst them.

* * *

After grabbing dinner at Mario's, several players had crowded into the second floor common room of Sanford Hall, while some had actually gone into their rooms, retiring to bed early and succumbing to the effects of another grueling day at practice. Despite having come to blows earlier in the week, Mac and OC were amongst the guys hanging out together.

"I know Herb's always been a tough coach," Buzz started. "But when the hell did he turn into Captain Blood?"

"I have no idea," Mac replied over the chuckles the rest of the guys were letting out over Buzz's comment.

"This is gonna be a long seven months, boys," Bah groaned. "I'm pretty sure I'll be sick of all of your faces by the time this ends."

Murmurs of agreement and more laughter came. It was all they can do to keep their wits about them.

"I heard Coach Craig say something about at least 50 games on our schedule," Dave Silk piped up.

"At least?" OC repeated incredulously. "So there's a possibility it could be more? Jeeze."

"What do you think about all that, Magic?" Mac asked, turning to his silent roommate.

Mark Johnson looked up and passed a quick glance to his teammates. Never one to really complain or cause a fuss, he simply said "It's gonna be hard."

"Yeah, it is," Mike Eruzione, known to the team as Rizzo, said. "I think we all knew that the second we got handed those tests in Colorado."

"I'm willing to bet $20 that Colt had something to do with that," Phil mused absentmindedly.

"Speaking of which," Buzz muttered.

"I still have no idea," Mac said before anything else. "I went to their house but there was no answer. After that, I got caught up packing and then practices started."

"Maybe we should just ask Herb," Phil suggested.

"If you're offering to talk to him, sure," Buzz said dryly.

"Never mind."

* * *

As the Saturday midday sun shone down on him, Jim Craig began his trek back to the dorms after having lunch with some of his teammates, opting to pass on their invitation to see what they could get up to in Minneapolis. As much as the boys had been growing on him, sometimes he just felt like being alone.

It was a great time for him, being chosen for the 1980 Olympic hockey team, though the honor also came with a dark cloud hanging over him. It was his mother's wish for him to play on this team. Having made it through the first cut only served to remind him that she was no longer around to share the news, nor to see him play. He was sure that the rest of the team could see his sadness, perhaps the reason why they kept inviting him to go out even though he wasn't good company. And if even Herb Brooks can take the time out of his harsh training regime to ask him how he was doing, Jim knew he had to snap out of it or his spot may be on the line.

As Sanford Hall came into view, he spotted a petite blonde struggling with a backpack and several grocery bags walking up to the dorm's entrance. Rushing forward, his hands came up to hers, preventing her from dropping anything.

"Let me help you with those," he said, taking the grocery bags into his grasp.

"Thanks," she mumbled shyly, hiking the strap of her backpack further up her shoulder. "Would it be too much to ask if you could take them up the third floor?"

"Not at all," he said with a small smile.

She returned his smile with one of her own and headed into the building, holding the door open for him to walk through.

"You're Jim Craig, right?" she asked as they made their way up the first flight of stairs.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "How'd you know?"

"Hockey fan. I've been to enough Gopher-Terrier games to know. Congrats on making the Olympic team!"

He shot her a curious glance, wondering how she could have known that as well.

Sensing his confusion, "Why else would a Boston boy be here?" she joked before explaining how it quickly became campus news how they had taken over a whole floor of the dorm. "It's the best one in campus because of the location," she continued. "Smack dab in the middle of everything. So a lot of students prefer it here. And since you guys took a whole floor, there's less rooms available for the fall semester."

"It's not our fault," he said with a shrug. "Herb put us here."

"No one's blaming you. Hell, I'm sure the whole state of Minnesota is proud to claim that we've housed the Olympic hockey team," she replied with a huge grin.

Jim had to remind himself to keep on walking when she flashed that smile his way. He hadn't really focused on what she looked like when he saw her outside, but seeing how happy she had looked right then and how brightly it lit up her blue eyes, he was able to say that she was a beautiful girl.

"Well, this is me," she said, stopping in front of a door marked 35 as she fished her key out of the front pocket of her jeans. Again, she held the door open for him to let him through, telling him that he could just put the bags down on the counter in the small kitchen at the corner of the room.

"Hey, your room's bigger," he mused.

"Yeah, this floor's rooms are more like studio apartments actually. I have my own bathroom, the bed's a double, the couch pulls out, and the kitchen has a stove and small refrigerator."

"Now I understand the groceries," he said, earning another smile from her. "Hey, I never got your name."

"Oh," she exclaimed, a slight blush staining her cheeks. "It's Frances. But please, call me Frankie."


	4. First Impressions Don't Last

Disclaimer: I still don't own Miracle.

AN: Thanks to everyone who's been reading the story. I'm seeing the hits and I'm happy that some of you keep coming back to see where this is going. Here's a quick update for you all.

phoenixfire53 – Big thank you to you for reviewing! I have to say that I'm a Silky girl too but for this story, I'm trying a couple of things. And while Jim is the first real encounter, there are a couple of guys who will have a role in this as it goes along. ;)

* * *

"I'm telling you," OC said proudly as he walked into the locker room. "That girl wants me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Silky asked with a bored look on his face. "She said two words and disappeared around a corner not even five seconds after bumping into us."

The rest of the boys laughed heartily as OC's smirk dropped from his face. "Come on man," he whined. "You were supposed to play along." More laughter ensued as the Bostonian defenseman jokingly stomped off to his locker with a pout on his lips. "She was really pretty though," he said after a while, smiling to himself as he tried to remember what the girl looked like.

"Who?" a few guys asked.

"A girl bumped into us at the dorm as she was coming down the stairs," Silky explained. "She was muttering about being late for class or something, screamed sorry as she ran off with her long, sandy blonde hair whipping wildly behind her."

"Well it sounds like you're both smitten," Bah teased.

"If you saw her, you would be too," OC said. "It may have just been a quick look, but man, that was enough. I wonder what room she's in."

"You think you're gonna get lucky, huh?" Mac chimed in with a smirk. "Maybe we should go around the dorm and warn our Gopher girls about a guy named OC, especially if we come across _Sandy_," he continued, using Silky's description as a joke. "What do you think Philly?"

"What are you asking him for?" Janny asked in between chuckles. "If girls see him at their door, chances are, a punch will be going his way."

"Screw you, Janaszak!"

* * *

"Man, how many more drills is he gonna make us do?" Bah groaned from his spot on the bench.

"I don't know," Pav replied. "But if I'm right, practice should be up in a few more minutes. Here's to hoping we manage to survive that long."

"Hey Mac," Buzz called out, tapping his stick against his teammate's leg. "I really think we should ask Herb about Colt."

"What are you doing Strobel? You're skating worse and worse each day and right now, you're skating like it's the middle of next week!"

Mac blinked once as he looked across the ice to see his coach looking angry. "If you're volunteering when he's that mad, I won't stop you," he said flatly. "What does that even mean?"

"Everybody on the line!"

Herb watched intently as each of the players skated up to the goal line. "What's your name?"

"Mark Johnson."

"Where are you from, Mark?"

"Madison, Wisconsin."

"Who do you play for?"

"University of Wisconsin, coach."

With a curt nod to Craig, the whistle sounded for the boys to go on their skating drill.

"The legs feed the wolf, gentlemen. The legs feed the wolf."

"Herb," Craig called out, calling his attention as the last couple of players completed the drill. He said nothing else as stern blue eyes looked back at him. Instead, he nodded his head in the direction of the bench.

"Boy, aren't you lucky?" Herb said stiffly. "Take a breather."

The boys on the team were quite grateful that they were given a bit of a reprieve. Whatever it was that had their coach distracted even for just a little bit was more welcome than having to do consecutive drills, especially after having been practicing plays for the whole of that afternoon. Some had used the boards to prop themselves upright, some actually sat down on the ice, but a few still stood tall.

Jim found himself hunched over, with his arms propped against his knees as he watched Herb skate off to the other side of the ice. Being the farthest down the line, he was the first to get a glimpse of what, or he should say who, Herb was going to. "Frankie?"

Janny whipped his head to look at his Bostonian counterpart before following his gaze. "No way," he breathed out. "Mac! Buzzy!" he said excitedly. "Look!"

All the boys had looked at Janny when he called the names out loud. Most were ready to throttle him for saying anything that might get them in trouble. But when they saw him pointing to where Herb was standing, their curiosity got the best of them and had them turning their heads in that direction.

"Well then," Buzz breathed out, eyes wide at the sight.

"Colt!" several voices rang out.

The name caught the others by surprise. While very little detail was mentioned about the Gopher team manager that the boys from the U had been talking about, they definitely didn't expect it to be a girl.

"Some of them look just about ready to leave the line," Frankie mumbled as she spotted Mike Ramsey and Bill Baker looking giddy from the corner of her eye.

Herb rolled his eyes. "Stay on the line," he called back, freezing them to their spots. "Anyway, what do you have for me?"

"The games in Europe have been settled," she replied. "Ten games within three weeks. We fly to Holland first, then Finland, before finishing it up in Norway." She handed over a sheet of paper, showing dates, teams and places for the team's trip overseas before continuing. "The USOC already has travel arrangements settled. Passports have been taken care of and will be delivered within the week along with the team's official gear. I told them to deliver it to Sanford so they won't have to carry two sets of gear around after practice."

"Any news about games when we return?"

"We've got NHL games almost immediately after that, all on the road," she offered. "We're the ones that have to adjust to their schedule. Then there's Canada and a couple of universities have also agreed on games, including our own Gophers. I should have a more comprehensive list within the next two weeks."

"Alright," Herb said, handing the sheet back to her. "If stares could melt people down, we'd be puddles right now."

"I think they're in a state of shock," Frankie mused. "My boys haven't seen me since I left last semester. I've met Jim Craig this past weekend and I'm sure he's confused because I never let on that I was working with the team. And I actually ran into Silk and O'Callahan while rushing off to my classes this morning."

"I'm sure that left a good impression."

"Much better than you at least."

"Do you want to be formally introduced?"

"Nah," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Let them figure it out for themselves. I'm off to the library. See ya!"


	5. Getting Acquainted

Disclaimer: Miracle, Brooksisms and anything else related to this story - yeah, I don't own any of them.

AN: I should be doing work but instead I find myself writing this update. I'm just having too much fun with it. In this chapter, more is revealed about Frankie/Colt and more banter between the boys.

Thanks to _phoenixfire53 _and _SeaKat01_ for reviewing the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one too. :)

* * *

"I have to say," Bah started to say through his chuckles. "I have never seen you guys move so fast."

The rest of the boys laughed as they each recounted their favorite moment after getting out of practice. After seeing the elusive Colt, the Gophers on the team had all rushed into the locker room, practically tearing their gear off and falling over one another as they ran into the showers. Perhaps the funniest part for the rest of the team was seeing how dejected they all looked after going to the team manager's office only to find it empty.

"I can't believe it's her," OC said once the laughter died down.

"We heard you the first ten times Jack," Pav said with a roll of his eyes.

"But you agree with us, right?" Silky chimed in. "She's pretty."

Murmurs of agreement were heard all around. OC turned his gaze to Buzz and Mac, prepared to ask more about the girl, but was interrupted by Janny.

"Hey Jimmy," he called out. "How did you know who she was?"

Several heads snapped up to look at the two goalies, surprised by the new development.

"Wait, what?" Mac asked.

"When we were on the line and coach was skating over, Jimmy said Frankie's name," Janny clarified. "I looked at him and he was looking at coach. Then I saw blonde hair and you know the rest."

The whole team now looked at Jimmy expectantly, waiting for him to answer Janny's original question. Wide-eyed, he shifted in his seat. "Uh," he stammered. "I met her this past weekend. She was struggling with a few grocery bags and I helped carry them up to her room."

"And OC and Silky ran into her this morning, which means that she's in this dorm," Phil mused. "Jimmy, quick! What room is she in?"

"35."

"That's just up on the next floor."

"Let's go!"

The boys were left amused as all members of the Olympic team that had played as Gophers took off running.

"I don't know about you guys," Rizzo started. "But I'm getting more curious about this girl just by how they're all acting."

"Yep," some of them agreed.

Even from the common room, they could hear the stomping of feet as nine Minnesotans ran down the hallway and up the flight of stairs. They all knew that if they stuck their heads out to take a look, they'd all fall down to the floor laughing. The situation was only made more amusing by the thought that those guys probably didn't care what kind of scene they were making.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one that found that funny." The boys in the common room fell silent as they turned their heads to see the owner of the voice standing just inside the entryway, looking half-stunned and half-amused. "I have this weird feeling that I would have been run over if I walked up the stairs about five seconds earlier."

"Hey, Frankie," Jimmy greeted politely after a few moments of silence.

"Hey Jimmy," she said with a smile.

"You know the guys, right?" he asked, waving his hand around to gesture to the boys still seated in the common room.

"It's kinda part of my job."

"About that – "

"Yeah," she interrupted, looking sheepish as she stuck her hands into her jeans pockets. "Sorry I never mentioned it. Do you mind if I sit down? I know they'll be back down once they realize I'm not in the room. I'd rather stay here where people can save me from being attacked than going up there to meet my death."

"I don't think those boys are capable of hurting someone as beautiful as you," OC mused, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

"Aren't you a charmer?" she said dryly.

"I try."

"So what do we call you?" Silky piped up. "Jimmy said your name was Frankie. They call you Colt."

"The name's actually Frances Coltrane," she replied. "Most people know me as Frankie but the Gophers gave me the name Colt when I became part of the managerial staff a couple of years back. I answer to both so you can call me by either name."

"So they got Colt from your last name?" Ralph Cox surmised.

"That's one reason."

"What's another reason?" Mark Johnson asked, turning a curious gaze to the blonde girl.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," she replied with a quick wink and a smirk.

"Well, on behalf of everyone," Rizzo started. "It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

Frankie smiled as some of the boys echoed the sentiment, but after a few moments, her face turned to stone. "Don't even try it Verchota."

"How do you do that?" he exclaimed, eyes wide as he stared at the back of her head. He had crept up behind her quietly and managed to signal to the rest of the team to not alert her of his presence, yet she still managed to sense what he was about to do.

She turned in her seat to face him, eyebrows shooting up as she took in the expression on his face before taking a quick glance at each of the guys she had come to know over the years standing right behind him. "Hey guys, how was your run?" she quipped, barely able to keep a straight face as they grumbled in reply.

"I'd tell you to think about it Philly but we all know you're a little weak when it comes to that," Janny quipped, walking up to his teammate and slapping a hand on his back. "How can you forget that detail? One look at those eyes and you have your answer."

"Oh yeah," Phil mumbled.

"What are you guys talking about now?" OC chimed in.

"Did she introduce herself?" Buzz asked, arms crossed against his chest and looking pointedly at Frankie.

The rest of the boys exchanged curious glances. Clearly, the boys from Minnesota knew something that the rest of them didn't. And with Frankie just sitting quietly in her seat with a cheeky grin on her lips, some of them were almost afraid to ask.

"This should serve in three ways," Mac started to explain, walking up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "One, to answer Verchota's question. Two, for you to know just exactly who Colt is. And three, fair warning to you all."

Frankie ran her palms down her face. "Did you really have to add the third one?" she whined.

"This is Frances Helena Brooks-Coltrane," Mac continued, ignoring the girl's groan of protest at hearing her full name. "And yes, Brooks as in Herb Brooks."

"His niece and goddaughter," Buzz added.

"Now that we're all acquainted," she said quickly as she stood, barely giving them enough time for the new information to register. "How about some dinner? Come on, Rammer," she said tugging on the defenseman's arm. "I'll buy you ice cream."

"Hey! What about us?"

* * *

When 26 guys and a girl walk into a small pizza joint, it was sure to cause a scene. Add how the said 26 men happened to be part of the US Olympic hockey team, then the stares, whispers and, much to Frankie's dismay, giggling, was sure to follow. She understood the appeal. They were a gorgeous bunch of guys and hockey players have always been a big draw for girls in Minnesota. But when girls just kept sidling up to their tables and interrupting dinner, some even having the audacity to invite themselves to stay, it was taking the combined efforts of Buzz, Mac and Rammer to keep her at bay.

"Take it easy Colt," Mac whispered into her ear as he noticed the cold stares she was shooting at the redhead shamelessly flirting with OC two tables over and a few other girls who have settled in with the other guys. She could only be so grateful that no one had dared to approach their table.

"I would understand if we were at a bar where you boys can be picked off to dance or to a dark corner to make out or something else," Frankie muttered under her breath. "But jeeze, it's dinner. Don't they know that's rude? This is why I only wanted to go with Rammer."

"I'm hurt, really I am," Buzz said, clutching a hand over his heart dramatically.

"I've had enough of you, man," she replied jokingly. "I've known you since I was in high school. I've known Rammer for just over a year. He's still a novelty to me."

"Wow," Rammer said, chuckling. "Now I know how a girl feels when guys treat her like an object."

"See," Frankie said, putting her hand against his shoulder. "This is why I like you. "

"Hey, do you mind if I join you guys?"

Mac, Buzz, Rammer and Frankie looked up to find Jimmy at the end of their table, shuffling his feet as he waited for their response.

"Pull up a seat," Mac said in a friendly tone.

"Sorry if I interrupted anything. I just had about enough of the airhead over there," the goalie explained, nodding his head in the direction of his table where OC, Silky and Phil were entertaining the flirtatious redhead.

A confused look crossed Jimmy's face as the rest of the guys groaned. Frankie looked about ready to say something before Rammer put a hand over her mouth to stop her from doing so.

Seeing the bemused expression Jimmy now sported, Mac went on. "Did she tell you how she got the name Colt?"

"She said one reason was because of her last name," Jimmy replied.

"It was just that originally," Buzz said. "But over time, we came to realize it fit better with the more creative story behind it."

"She's a pistol," Rammer continued. "And trust us, you don't want to get her going. So someone please come up with a better topic of conversation because I don't know how much longer I can hold her off. And I'm hungry. I can't eat like this!"

"Oh hell," Janny piped up from a table over, finally noticing the hold Rammer had on Frankie. "What's Colt mad about now?"

"Shut up!" Mac, Buzz and Rammer exclaimed, prompting Frankie to dissolve into a fit of laughter. The scene only served to amuse Jimmy and the rest of the guys as the girl's body shook, still with Rammer's hand covering her mouth and muffling her laugther, while Mac and Buzz glared at a sheepish looking Janny.

In her efforts to break free of Rammer's grasp, Frankie managed to get a glimpse of some of the girls' faces. Sour expressions met her gaze as the boys' attention was now diverted on her. Her eyes shone with mirth, reveling in that fact.

She tapped her fingers against Rammer's arm as her chuckles died, waiting for him to let go. He looked up warily at Mac and Buzz before reluctantly removing his hand from her mouth. They gave a collective sigh of relief when Frankie reached for a slice of pizza and took a huge bite, avoiding the possibility of her mouthing off.

"Come on, Colt! Where's the fun in that?"

"Shut up, Verchota!"


	6. Some Clarity

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own anything except Frankie/Colt.

AN: Can you tell just how much fun I'm having writing this? There's probably another chapter or two before I start getting into the hockey madness. Meanwhile, enjoy this update!

Thanks to _phoenixfire53,__ Dani_ and the guest (please introduce yourself next time) for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

"Hey Mac," Bah called out across the room. "What's that name of that diner you were talking about the other day? The one you said that had the best burgers in town?"

"Maggie Mae's," Mac replied. "Rammer can take you if you want."

"What, you're not coming?"

Several heads turned in OC's direction, amused smirks curving at their lips at hearing his question. After that first day of practice, no one had expected for the rivals to become anything more than civil towards each other. Yet day by day, they were acting more like friends. And while the two still found themselves bickering often, it was more playful rather than tense.

"No," Mac said simply. "I'm going to St. Paul. Colt's asking if I still had some of my old notes for a class she's taking now. I think her finals are next week and she needs some help for review."

"Are we talking about the same girl?" Janny piped up. "This is Colt. That girl has been an A student ever since she started school. What the hell would she need help for?"

"She's taking Professor Keller's class."

"Why did she take that?" Phil exclaimed. "Didn't we tell her to avoid his class at all costs? He's like the Herb Brooks of the business department."

A few chuckles rose from Verchota's comment, most were able to imagine how big a terror that professor could be just from that one analogy despite not having studied at the U.

"She said he was the only one who offered the class for this summer," Mac explained. "I thought she could have just waited until fall so she could get a better instructor but then I remembered she only had three classes remaining before she left last semester."

"So she's finishing at the end of summer?" Janny asked.

Mac nodded. "I actually think she's already done with the other two classes and it's just that final for Keller that's left."

"You two gonna stay in St. Paul tonight or are you coming back to the dorms? I know your mom will want you to stay for dinner at least," Rammer interjected.

"I don't know yet. Colt's driving though so we might come back after dinner. Anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you guys later."

* * *

"I don't know about you guys," OC whined. "But if we keep going out for food after practice, I'll be broke before we even go on the road."

"What do you want us to do then, starve?" Silky countered.

"Maybe we can pool our money and buy groceries to cook ourselves," Rizzo suggested. "We have a kitchen here anyway and that should save us a couple of bucks."

Most of the boys liked the idea, each one not wanting to spend more than what they had. Being an Olympic athlete was a great honor but in the real world, it meant very little. They were technically unemployed, with no earnings to their name except for what little budget the USOC allotted for them. Some were lucky to have come from well-to-do families that didn't have much trouble in scraping up some extra cash for their sons to spend, a few were lucky to have played in the amateur leagues with some money saved up, but there are also those with just enough to get by on a daily basis. Once they realized that, the more appealing Rizzo's suggestion became.

"Who's gonna cook though?" Bah asked.

"Rizzo can cook," OC said, volunteering his old friend. "He's Italian after all. It's in his genetics to cook."

The boys chuckled as Rizzo voiced out his protest. "I can't cook every night."

"We can take turns," Buzz suggested. "I can call Gayle for some recipes that even Verchota will find hard to mess up."

"Quit picking on me," Phil grumbled. "Why don't you just ask Gayle to come by and cook for us?"

"She's my wife, not your slave."

"So? If she loves you, she won't let you go hungry."

"I'd rather just go out to Mario's every night than have to subject her to that."

"Maybe we can ask Colt if she's willing to cook a meal every week," Rammer interjected.

The guys from Minnesota all quickly agreed, bragging excitedly to the others how their team manager also happened to be a whiz in the kitchen and telling stories of how she often packed cookies and different kinds of pastries every time they went on the road for games when they played in college.

"I miss those fudge brownies," Baker said, looking glassy-eyed as he tried to remember what the treats tasted like.

"Those were the best," Phil stated. "And her meatloaf with those roasted vegetables that she made for one of our team dinners."

"Okay," Rizzo piped up before anyone else could say anything that would spur on more cravings. "When Colt and Mac get back, we ask if she's willing to cook for us."

"Can I ask you guys something?" OC started, eyeing a few of the Gophers. "What's up with Mac and Colt?"

"Why, you jealous?" Phil teased.

"Nah," he snorted. "I just noticed she seemed to be closer to him than any of you other guys. And come on, she just headed off with him to his parents' place."

"Well, they've known each other the longest," Baker explained. "Their houses are just two streets away from each other. They've gone to the same schools since they hit 3rd grade. Though they didn't become good friends until they got into the U. They knew each other before but they hung out with different crowds. I think we all really just became friends once we got into the hockey team and she was part of the staff."

"So you guys don't find it weird?"

"Not at all," Buzz replied. "If you're asking because you think he's being overprotective with the whole fair warning thing when he spilled about her being Herb's niece, that's actually him being nice and saving you from having to face coach if you even try anything," he joked.

"Plus, I think you'll all see the rest of us acting that way around her at some point," Baker added. "I think it just comes with the territory of having known her for so long and obviously because she's the only girl around us. Hell, over time, I'm pretty sure you all will act that way around her."

"Has anyone tried to ask her out?" Silky asked. "I mean, with her being part Brooks and having a whole hockey team as bodyguards," he trailed off.

"She's had boyfriends and dates," Buzz answered. "I think she even went out on a few dates with a couple of our players but nothing really stuck."

"She had a boyfriend up until last year but they broke up before Thanksgiving," Rammer continued. "I don't think I've eaten so much ice cream in my entire life than I have in the two weeks after that breakup. She dragged me out for it after every practice."

"She likes ice cream, huh?" Bah mused.

"She _loves_ dessert," Phil clarified. "Give her some sweets and she'll be your friend for life."

* * *

"Thanks for dinner Mrs. McClanahan," Frankie said appreciatively.

"You know you're always welcome here, dear," Elizabeth McClanahan replied.

"Yeah," Mac chimed in. "So much so that you're more welcome than I am."

"Oh be quiet, Robbie," his mother gently scolded. "I'm glad she gave you a reason to come back home for a few hours. I haven't talked to you for more than five minutes ever since you started practices."

"Coach has us training heavily," he explained. "I barely have the energy to get up and get food, imagine how hard it is for me to get up and drive home to visit and then drive back because I have practice early in the morning."

"What exactly is your uncle doing to these boys?" Steve McClanahan asked.

"I have no idea," Frankie replied with a short chuckle. "But I know he has his reasons."

"Anyway," Mac chimed in, standing up from his seat. "It's getting late and I have practice. And I'm sure Colt's gotta get back to studying."

"Oh, alright," his mom said reluctantly, getting up to give her son a hug.

"Try and call more often, son," his father said, giving him a light pat on the back. "If only for your mother's sanity that you're still alive."

"I'll make sure he calls," Frankie said. "Thanks again for having me."

"Like I said," Elizabeth started. "You're welcome here any time."

"You two have a safe drive," Steve said. "Call us when you get there so we know you arrived safely."

"Alright dad," Mac said with a slight roll of his eyes.

The four made the short walk to the front door, once again bidding each other goodnight as Mac and Frankie walked out into the night.

"You want me to drive?" he offered.

"Sure," she replied, tossing her keys to him. She smiled softly as he opened the passenger door for her, waiting until she was settled in her seat before closing the door and jogging over to the driver's side.

Before long, they peeled out of the McClanahan driveway to make their way back to Minneapolis. A companionable silence fell between them, soon filled with the sound of Frankie toying with the radio, trying to find a decent station. She finally settled on one just as the opening notes of Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers' _American Girl _started to play.

At a stoplight, he took the chance to look at her, watching as she bobbed her head lightly to the music and mouthing the lyrics to herself. She turned to face him and started singing softly, causing him to break out into a smile.

_Oh yeah! Alright! Take it easy baby, make it last all night._

Despite his best efforts not to, he found himself singing along with her, her carefree attitude too contagious to ignore. But as the thought crossed his mind, he wondered if she was as fine as she was presenting herself to be.

"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively once the song had finished.

Frankie sighed, her lips pressed into a thin line as she thought of how to reply. She turned her head out the window, watching the scenery go by as he maneuvered through the Twin Cities. She had been expecting the question ever since it had been established that she was joining the boys on their Olympic journey. With nine guys from the U, Doc and her uncle around, she knew that she had a lot of eyes on her.

"I'm alright," she finally said. "I mean, I'm not completely okay but I'm getting by," she clarified. "I know it's not the best thing, the idea of me just coasting through, but it's better than holing myself up somewhere wallowing in my depression, right?"

"Honestly, Frankie," Mac started, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips when she snapped her head around at the use of her name instead of Colt. "None of us expected you on this team. We wanted you to be there for old time's sake and selfishly because we know you're the only one who'll stand up to Herb for us and that you'll take care of us, but if you weren't and you decided to take time to yourself, we would have understood."

"That's why I left last semester, remember?" she reminded him. "If I wasn't ready to come back and do some work, I wouldn't have. I know I wouldn't have been able to focus and then I'll just end up distracting you guys because you'll be worried about how I am. Trust me, Robbie, I can do this. Tell that to Buzzy and the others too."

"We just care about you."

"I know that, and you guys know that I feel the same about you. I appreciate it really, but you guys don't have to hover over me. If I need anything, I know where to find you."

"Are you planning to tell the rest of the team about it?"

"I don't know. It's kinda heavy to just dump on everyone."

"You're not dumping anything on anyone," he said evenly. "And you never know, some of them might be able to give you a better talk than Buzzy, Baker or I could."

"Jimmy, right? Herb told me I should try talking to him too."

"It could be good for both of you."


	7. I Won't Admit Defeat 'til Saturday

Disclaimer: When it comes to Miracle, all I own is Frankie and this story.

AN: Thanks to phoenixfire53 and Annnnnnnnnnna for the reviews!

* * *

Rizzo's suggestion about dinner had been put into effect as soon as they had asked the rest of the team about their thoughts on it. Everyone had agreed after each of the Gopher players shared about their favorite meal that Frankie had prepared for them at one point or the other. Everyone who had not gone to the University of Minnesota was in agreement that seeing grown men salivate over the thought of food was amusing. It became even funnier when the woman of the hour finally came back to the dorm to have guys down on their knees begging for her to say yes to the plan, saying how she was willing to cook once a week, with her first meal being on Saturday.

That left the first night for Rizzo. It was the first time he was making food for 26 hockey players and their team manager, so he had decided to keep things simple by cooking his mother's recipe for spaghetti and meatballs. It was hard to go wrong with a meal like that but they all complimented him for a job well done, saying how they were all so full.

After getting everything cleaned, they had all stuck around to hang out in the common room. Some had sat down in front of the TV, a few had found themselves in the corner playing a poker game while a few lingered around the small kitchen talking over a few beers.

"How did your final with Professor Keller go?" Mac asked, handing a bottle over to Frankie.

"A minus," she replied. "I'm officially done."

"That's great!" Buzz said with a huge smile. "Have you told Herb yet?"

OC and Silky exchanged a quick glance that went unnoticed by the other three.

"Yeah," Frankie said with a nod. "I went to their house as soon as I got the result. That's actually where I was last night. Aunt Patty refused to let me leave."

"Congratulations, graduate! You're part of the real world now," Mac added, with the rest echoing the same sentiments.

"Not until after the Olympics," she joked.

* * *

Frankie had just tugged down a shirt down her torso when a knock sounded at her door, her brows furrowing as she caught a glimpse of the time. She shook her head, knowing that it could only be one of the boys, though she was curious as to why they were knocking at her door this early in the morning. Her suspicions were confirmed when she pulled the door open. "You do know that it's Saturday, one of your days off when you can sleep in or relax, right?" she asked dryly. At his fervent nod, she continued. "Why are you knocking at my door at 8 in the morning?"

"I thought I'd come by and ask you if you need help with grocery shopping for whatever you're making for dinner," he explained. "Some of the boys were talking about it last night and I said I'd do it. And Mac said you always woke up early so I knew you'd be up and figured I'd ask you about it now."

She nervously bit down on her lip, her feet shuffling as she tried to come up with an answer. "I actually have a few errands to run this morning. I'm not sure when I'll be finished but I figured I'd just go directly to the grocery once I'm done."

"Don't you want some company?"

She kept silent as she mentally ran down the list of the pros and cons should she allow for him to accompany her. Saturdays were always her days, which left her a little miffed that Mac had mentioned how she was going to be up and about, questioning what could have possessed him to do so. But in the back of her mind, she knew the reason why, her answer becoming clear once she had accepted it.

"Sure, Jimmy," she finally replied. "I'd love the company."

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" she countered. When he shook his head lightly, she had held up a finger, stepping back further into her room to grab her backpack and her keys. "I have this favorite diner in St. Paul that I go to every Saturday. I guess you can say it's tradition."

"Sure," he agreed, taking her bag from her and hiking it up over his shoulder as she locked the door.

* * *

"How do you always have gas?" Jimmy asked, a look of wonder etched on his features as he realized how she had always been driving.

Frankie chuckled before leaning across the table slightly, before motioning him to do the same as if what she was about to say was some huge secret. He humored her and playfully looked around to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation.

"The owner of this diner has a younger brother that works at a gas station in Bloomington," she replied in a hushed tone. "They tell me when they expect gas to be delivered so I can go early and beat the crowds."

"You cheat," he jokingly accused.

"Hey, if you want to walk back to Sanford, be my guest."

"I take it back."

"I thought so."

"Alright, here you go," their waitress said as she approached the table with their food. "A vegetable omelet, bacon and sausages for the young man, and a stack of pancakes and bacon for you."

"Thanks Martha," Frankie said appreciatively.

"And lest I forget," the middle aged woman added, putting a small bottle on the table. "Strawberry syrup, not maple."

The young girl grinned as she reached for the bottle, happily dousing her breakfast with the sweet red syrup.

"You don't like maple?" Jimmy asked once Martha had left.

"I like it just fine but strawberry's my favorite," she said with a warm smile. "Let's eat!"

The rest of their meal was spent mostly in silence. It wasn't at all uncomfortable but rather something that the two of them just seemed to agree on. As lively as Frankie often was when she was around the boys and as talkative Jim was when he was in front of the net, they both enjoyed having moments of peace, and they were alright with spending breakfast like that.

"You ready to go?" she asked once they had both cleaned off their plates.

He nodded in response and stood up, offering his hand for her to take to help her out of the booth. "Where to?"

"There's this flower shop just around the corner," she replied. "We can walk over and just come back here after."

"Let's go."

They made their way out of the diner and into the humid August morning, with Frankie saying how she couldn't wait for winter to come so she can be rid of the humidity. "I'm a Minnesotan," she stated as he laughed at her. "I'm predisposed to not like anything that has nothing to do with the cold or snow."

Jim's laughter boomed louder, the corners of his eyes crinkling as the smile took over his face. She smiled wistfully as the flower shop came into view, reminding her that the day wasn't going to be as joyful as it was at that moment.

"Good morning, Mr. Roberts," Frankie greeted as a man of about 50 years old stepped out to put a few bouquets of flowers out on display.

"Good morning, Frankie," the man greeted back. "And who is this young man?"

"This is Jim Craig," she replied, her hand meeting the goalie's shoulder. "He's one of the players on the Olympic hockey team."

"Well, what'll it be today?" Mr. Roberts asked after shaking hands with the hockey player.

"Sunflowers, please," she said with a small smile. "If you still have them."

"Two bunches or just one?"

"Two of the small ones. And if there's a giant sunflower, I'd like to take one stem too."

"No problem, dear."

* * *

Not being from Minnesota left Jim without a clue as to where they were headed next. The silence had washed over them once again, leaving him to idly watch the scenery outside the passenger side window as Frankie expertly made her way around her hometown.

After a while, buildings and establishments became fewer, being replaced by suburban homes. Some time later, those houses also became scarce, seeing mostly flat land lined with trees. Then he saw it. He sat up straighter and moved his gaze around as far as they can reach, seeing the same things over and over, confirming that they were where he thought they were.

He turned his head to look at Frankie, eyes looking straight ahead but her hands gripping so hard on the wheel that her knuckles had turned white.

It only took less than five minutes until she had parked the car. Jim tentatively reached his hands out, placing them on top of hers before gently prying her fingers from the vice hold she had on the wheel.

She turned her head to meet his gaze and offered a sheepish smile. They spoke no words and only nodded to each other. He made his way out of the car and quickly ran around to her side to help her out, having an idea that she wasn't quite prepared to do this with him around. Once she was steady on her feet, he opened the back door and reached for the flowers, leaving the lone giant sunflower behind as she had asked.

Making sure that the doors were locked, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders as she lightly clutched the flowers against her chest before making their way across the grass.

Thoughts flooded his head as he tried to remember every detail he had learned about Frankie thus far. The Minnesota boys all expressing concern about her, how she told him that day they met that she was taking summer classes because she had left early the past semester due to personal reasons, her closeness to Herb and his family, how OC and Silky wondered about why she had gone to Herb first about finally finishing school – how he didn't realize it until now, he wasn't sure. But as they finally stopped in front of two markers, a familiar feeling of heartbreak took over his whole being.

_Helen Christine Brooks-Coltrane  
__October 3, 1938 – December 1, 1974  
_"_Loved by all who were fortunate to have known her, and she loved them in return."_

_Franklin John Coltrane  
__February 2, 1937 – March 18, 1979  
_"_The best companion anyone could ever hope for."_

"Hey mom, hey dad," Frankie said shakily. "I brought a friend today. I hope you don't mind."


	8. Keep the Memories Alive

Disclaimer: You should know this by now.

AN: I know I said I'd start getting into the hockey madness soon but this part of the story just got away from me.

Thanks to _phoenixfire53 _for reviewing the last chapter, to _NerdyJock2566_ and _Peppy McGee _for adding the story to your following list, and to _outsiders83_ for adding this to your favorites. :)

* * *

Jimmy stood back as he watched her talk to her parents about her week – how she found out that she was officially done with her studies, how she was glad that Herb had asked her to work for the Olympic team so she didn't have to worry just yet about what she was going to do next, about how she was getting on with the team, and even how she was going to be cooking for them later that night. It became quite clear to him that she was close to both her parents. His heart went out to her that she had neither her mother nor her father around anymore. As much as it hurt to be reminded of his own mother's passing, he could only imagine how hard it was for Frankie, especially once he took note of the date of her father's death, just months prior to present day.

"You can sit down, you know?"

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, finding her staring thoughtfully at him as she patted the patch of grass beside her. He took the few steps forward and sat down beside her, smiling softly when she started talking again, introducing him to her parents.

"This is Jim Craig," she started. "Now before you start causing a ruckus up there, dad, he's one of the goalies for the team. I'm pretty sure he's scared of Uncle Herb anyway."

"Hey," he protested in between chuckles.

"What?" she looked at him blankly. "You are."

"So I am," he finally admitted. After a few moments of silence, he got the courage to ask "What happened?"

"Mom died in a car crash when I was 17. There was a storm and the car behind her skidded on a patch of black ice. The driver tried to take some control but he ended up crashing into my mom's car and she went crashing into the car in front of her. With the slick roads and the three-car pileup, it was damn near impossible for other cars to avoid adding onto the accident. A pickup had come careening into the car, hitting the driver's side. The saddest part of it all was that she didn't die instantly. She could have been saved but rescue workers weren't able to get her out in time. The injuries and the cold took her."

Jimmy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering what little support he could as she went on with her story.

"What hurt the most was that we didn't know what was going on," she continued. "I was at Mario's with some friends. I knew that she wasn't gonna be around because she was supposed to pick dad up from the airport. He had been invited to be a guest lecturer at some seminar or something, I can't really remember. So when I got home and found Uncle Herb standing on my front porch with that look on his face, I wanted to run. He hadn't even said anything, just gathered me in his arms and held on tight. My whole world came crashing down when he finally told me what happened. The phone rang. Uncle Herb answered because I had started wailing. It was my dad calling to say that he had just arrived and wondering if my mom had left to pick him up."

Jimmy's hold tightened when he heard her sniffle and saw a hand move up to her cheeks to wipe at a few tears.

"I can't really remember much of what happened after that. All I remember was Uncle Herb holding me while I cried until Aunt Patty and my dad came home late that night. They had already gone to the hospital to uh – " she stammered.

"You don't have to say any more," Jimmy interjected. "I know."

"With dad, it was liver cancer," Frankie said, sucking in a huge breath knowing that it was almost the same situation with his mother. "It was so unfair because he never smoke, and only had the occasional drink. When he got diagnosed, it was too late to do anything. He decided to just live out the rest of his days at home enduring the pain, instead of in a hospital bed too weak from the treatment. When it got too bad, I decided to leave school. I needed to be there. I needed to be able to say that I loved him right to his face, and that I was gonna be okay, that it was okay for him to let go."

He remained silent as she dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs. He knew from experience that she just needed to let it out. He found life so hard to deal with when his mother passed away. Having to take care of his father and his younger brothers often took its toll. But having learned about her story, he realized how much he took for granted.

"You are perhaps the strongest person I know," Jimmy said after a few minutes. "You seem so focused on your studies and your work. You always have a smile on your face. I never would have guessed you had gone through this."

"Is that really what being strong is like or is it just me being good at pretending?"

"Only you could answer that."

Frankie smiled through her tears. "Whenever I was sad dad always told me that there was no use to keep being sad about it. That harboring that feeling wasn't going to change the rest of the world, so I need to find something that makes me happy. And then mom would come in with a plate of chocolate chip cookies or brownies, and I'd get the biggest smile on my face. I miss those days a lot."

"I miss how my mom used to stand right by the front door when she handed each one of us a packed lunch. We'd give her a kiss on the cheek and she'd wish us a great day in school. When we got home, there'd be snacks waiting in the kitchen and she'd ask how our day went, how my practice was and other things. I found myself doing that for my younger brothers, if only to bring a bit of normalcy back."

"It's why I cook a lot," she stated. "Mom loved to cook and she even made this little recipe book when I started learning how to cook. Dad was always the guinea pig when I tried something new. When she died, I started cooking more. He'd always be so proud in saying that it was just like how mom made it and we'd talk about our favorite memories. Now I have no one to talk to about them. I mean, I know I got Uncle Herb and Aunt Patty, and Mac, Buzz and everyone. But I don't know. It's not the same."

"You can talk to me," he offered. "We can trade memories."

"I'd like that."

* * *

The two left the cemetery just a little before noon. Both agreed to grabbing lunch before going to the grocery. They had decided to go back to Martha's, where Jimmy learned that it was their Saturday morning ritual to go there for breakfast. It was her dad that got her hooked on using strawberry syrup on pancakes and that her mom would buy flowers from Mr. Roberts to decorate their house with. It was just another way of her keeping their memories alive.

"Hey Jimmy," she called out softly as they were making their way back to Sanford Hall. "Can we keep this between us? I just don't want people hovering or looking at me differently."

"I understand," he replied. "It's not my story to tell anyway so I wasn't planning on anything. If the opportunity comes though, I think you should tell some of them. Jack and Silky seemed pretty curious that you never mention anything about your parents."

"Thank you."

"Are you cooking dinner in your room or do you wanna cook on our floor?" he asked, effectively changing the subject. "The kitchen's bigger and it'll make moving the food around easier."

"My room," she said. "I wanna avoid having Verchota circling around the kitchen like a fly or having some of the guys stealing food before dinner."

He laughed at the thought before agreeing that cooking in her room would be for the best, offering to help her with anything should she need it.

The rest of the ride back was silent, save for the radio playing quietly in the background. Carrying the groceries up the stairs, they were surprised to have not come across any members of the team.

"Maybe they went out."

"Or they could be napping."

"Maybe they're in the common room watching a movie."

"Or maybe there's one waiting right in front of my door," Frankie said dryly. "I should really hate you right now."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Mac smiled sheepishly before taking the grocery bags from her, allowing her to unlock the door once her hands were free. "I know you needed someone to talk to and I figured he was the right guy. Sorry for setting you up for this Jim," he continued, looking at his teammate.

"It's okay," the goaltender replied. "I think I needed to have this kind of day too."

"I thought you both needed it," Mac repeated. "You guys needed someone who understood where you're coming from and how you're feeling instead of guys like me or Rizzo who'll just say everything's gonna be fine and give you a pat on the back."

"Thanks Robbie," Frankie said, giving her friend a warm hug.

"Yeah, thanks," Jim added.

"Any time," Mac said. "Now, what can I do to help with this big dinner?"


	9. Making Things Official

"Hey Colt!" Bah greeted as she rounded the corner.

She lifted her gaze from the box in her hands up to him, smiling when she saw Buzz and Pav walking right beside him. "You boys have really taken to sticking around each other, haven't you?"

"Coach just told us he's keeping us on the same line," Pav informed her.

"So now we don't have a choice but to stick together," Buzz continued jokingly.

"What's in the box?" Bah asked.

"It's a surprise," she said simply. "I'll tell you if you can keep the whole team around for a few more minutes. I just have to talk to Herb for a few minutes."

"You got it," Buzz replied. "See you in a bit."

Frankie walked past the three boys and went on her way to her uncle's office. As she got closer, she could hear the strained voices of Herb and Craig as they were in a somewhat heated discussion about the guys being worked too hard. She lingered just a few feet away from the door, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. When she heard her uncle bid his farewell, she shuffled on her feet, appearing to have just walked up to a seething Craig who had just exited the office.

"Hey Coach," she greeted.

"Hi Colt," he replied through clenched teeth, though his tone was close to being friendly.

"You alright?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. The stoic expression on his face slowly turned curious, prompting her to raise her eyebrows in wonder. "You know," he started, his gaze focused on her face. "I don't know how it is that you understand what he's doing. You just seem to have everything down pat. But I guess that's what spending your whole life around him has granted you, right?"

"Did he ever tell you that my dad, his best friend, was a psychology professor?"

Craig got even more curious, wondering what that little tidbit of information had to do with anything.

Sensing his confusion, Frankie continued. "He taught me all the telltale signs when it comes to Uncle Herb. I guess you can say I was groomed to understand the method of his madness."

"So you are responsible for those psychology tests," Craig mused, thinking back to how Verchota and a few of the boys have come up with that conclusion as well.

"It's nothing against you," she said after a few seconds of silence. "He's not intentionally doing things that would defeat your position as his assistant coach nor does it mean that he doesn't care what your opinion is. He just wants everyone to figure things out on their own instead of being spoon fed everything. The Russians aren't exactly just gonna hand us over the gold medal after all."

Craig nodded his head and said his goodbye, though Frankie wasn't quite sure if he understood anything she just said or if she was starting to sound like her uncle to him. She shrugged to herself before taking the last few steps towards Herb's office. She stopped just right at the doorway, pausing for a few moments to take in the sight in front of her. Herb was sat hunched in his seat, staring at a piece of paper in his hands with such intensity. She noticed the nervous habit of him biting on his lower lip. She had no doubt that if he had a piece of gum in his mouth that he'd be chewing furiously on it.

With the Conehead line of Bah, Buzz and Pav made official, she had an idea on what other matter he was thinking about, having talked about it over the past couple of meetings with the whole coaching staff. It was the reason she was asked to see him in his office anyway, no doubt to ask her about how things were off the ice that would either make or break his final word.

_Rob McClanahan. University of Minnesota._

_Jack O'Callahan. Boston University._

_Mark Johnson. University of Wisconsin._

_Dave Christian. University of North Dakota._

_Mark Pavelich. UMD Bulldogs._

The words echoed through Herb's mind as he looked at the sheet of paper in his hand, lips pressed together in a firm line as he pondered over the decision he was about to make. From how practice had gone on that day, it was clear that they still weren't shaping up to be the team he was hoping they would be. And with the pre-Olympic tour starting next week, he knew he was running out of time.

"What do you think?"

"What does what I think have to do with anything? Ultimately, it's up to you and what you think is best for the team."

"I'm only able to see them when they're in this arena, Frankie," Herb stated, confirming her previous thought. "Doc and Craig have told me what goes on in the locker room once I'm gone. I wanna know what you think because you're the one who sees them when they don't have much pressure on them."

"I think Mac took that away when he announced my full name," she said dryly. "I think they're being careful with what they say in front of me because of that or maybe they're just not that comfortable with me yet. I think I threw them for a loop. They were already getting along quite well before I finally showed my face again but I can see what you mean about them not being a team just yet."

"And what about this?" he pried, waving the piece of paper in the air.

"Whether or not it has any bearing," she started to say, knowing that it was still his decision as a coach to do what he thinks is best for the team and she was just sharing her opinion. "You picked good one. He's a hard worker, barely makes any complaints; shows a genuine concern for others; and he's smart. He's got everything you're looking for except for a good set of legs under him and a good aim on the net."

Herb raised an eyebrow at the tail end of her observations. He had expected her to give him nothing but good points, but nonetheless, he appreciated what critique she was able to give. "Alright," he sighed, resting his hands on his desk. "Send him over."

"Okay," Frankie easily agreed. Before turning to leave his office, she picked up a box that she had set down on one of the chairs, being prevented from exiting the room when he got curious as to what she was carrying. "My own way of helping them get that team mentality."

She left his office at that, walking through a few short hallways to arrive at the men's locker room, just in time to see Doc walk out.

"Hello Frankie," he greeted. "What do you have there?"

"It's a surprise," she said, grinning impishly. "Are they decent in there?"

"Let me pop back in there and tell them you're here."

"Thanks, Doc."

She could hear no more than a murmur of Doc asking the team if it was alright for her to come in before hearing a chorus of excited voices say yes. She shook her head, wondering just what the coneheads had said to the rest of the boys that had them in waiting in anticipation of her arrival.

"How are you, darling?" Doc asked before letting her inside, a rueful expression gracing his features.

"I'm okay," she replied. "Getting better every day."

She received another smile before being bid farewell and wishing her a happy weekend. She had wished him the same and told him to say hi to his wife Velta for her.

Pushing the door open with her foot, Frankie strode into the locker room to find 26 pairs of eyes on her. Her need to come in just as they were all getting ready to leave had obviously gotten their curiosity piqued, the huge box in her hands adding even more to the mystery. She had expected someone to raise a question soon enough, but she had beaten them to it. "Rizzo," she called out. "Herb wants to see you."

25 pairs of eyes left her then, all turning to the man whose lone pair of brown orbs was still on her as she set the box down just by the water jug.

"I'd go now, if I were you," a hint of stiffness in her voice that she was sure got a lot of the people in the room worried for the Boston player.

He nodded and stood up, silently walking the short distance to the door and leaving the room in a tense silence.

The walk from the locker room to the coach's office was a short but dreadful one. A dozen scenarios flashed through his mind, none of them good.

"Hey coach, Colt said you wanted to see me."

"Why don't you sit down, Rizzo?"

The young player swallowed thickly as he stepped further into the office. Just the idea of being singled out by Herb, whether on or off the ice, frightened every single one of them. Ever since they had started training, he hadn't heard the end of it – harsh criticisms and insults alike were something that Herb Brooks seemed to have an abundance of for Mike Eruzione, and that had the former Boston University forward feeling worried that he was about to get cut from the Olympic team before he even got the chance to play in one game of the training schedule.

"Craig, Doc, Frankie and I have been talking about this for a few days now," the coach started. "And we've all come to an agreement."

Rizzo sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself for the bad news.

* * *

As soon as Rizzo had left the locker room, the guys had turned their gazes back on Frankie. She started counting in her head, and before she could even reach five, the questions started pouring, one voice sounding over another in a mix of words that she could barely understand. She turned a blank look on them, silently saying how she wasn't going to give them any answers unless they decided to shut up.

She busied herself with ripping the packaging tape off of the box she had carried into the room and prying the lids apart. She smiled as that fresh smell that she could only associate with new clothes invaded her nostrils. Fingering one of the jerseys, she looked at the tag before calling back out to the boys.

"Janaszak."

"What?"

Instead of giving a verbal response, Frankie tossed the soft material in his direction. Janny looked baffled for a quick second before he took a better look at what was now resting in his hand. His eyes widened as he saw the red and blue details set on a background of stark white. He took the garment in both hands and held it up for the rest of the boys to see. He was looking at jersey number 1 – Janaszak.

She could hear the murmurs of awe and hoots of appreciation, and felt the excitement and anticipation as the rest of them waited for her to pull up their jersey. She dug into the box quickly, sparing them from having to wait any longer and tossing the uniforms to each of them.

None of them took more than a few seconds to admire their own jersey before pulling them on over their street clothes. At that moment, the group of 20-something guys wearing their Team USA hockey uniforms looked more like little kids on Christmas morning, causing a huge grin to light up her face.

"Whoa."

"Rizzo!" several voices exclaimed.

No one said anything else, not wanting to be the one to ask the question on everyone's mind in case the answer was what they were dreading.

"Eruzione," Frankie called out softly. Instead of tossing the uniform just like she had for everyone else, she walked over to where he stood at the doorway, handing over jersey number 21. "Put it on."

Rizzo didn't have to be told twice, quickly tugging on the white jersey over his clothes. "This is surreal," he whispered.

"And also very wrong."

"Colt!" Buzz said.

She raised her eyebrows at the tone of warning in his voice, keeping silent at seeing the hard look on his face. She smirked inwardly, knowing that they probably thought she had meant it as an insult after Rizzo got called in to the coach's office. Instead of giving Buzz a response, she turned her back to the rest of the boys and stepped in front of Rizzo. She smiled up at him as one hand went up and pressed against his chest, directly over his heart. "Congratulations," she murmured.

Unable to control himself, Rizzo wrapped his arms around Frankie and picked her up off the floor, squeezing her tightly as she squealed in laughter. He saw the confused looks the rest of the boys were throwing their way and smiled before finally setting her back on the ground. She pried her way out of his embrace and stepped aside, letting them get a good look of what Rizzo was so happy about.

Her gaze drifted from one boy to the next, her smirk growing as they finally understood what was going on. There on Rizzo's stark white jersey was something none of them had.

"Atta boy, Rizzo!" OC hollered, jumping up from his seat to rush his teammate. Several other guys approached to give him a hug or a pat on the back, others staying where they were, clapping their hands together in congratulations to their official team captain.

"We need to celebrate," someone said, several other voices chiming in their agreement.

"Yeah, we can do a combined celebration!" Mac said excitedly. "Let's party for the start of the pre-Olympic games, going to Europe, Rizzo being named captain and a late celebration of Frankie's graduation!"

"Yeah!"


	10. Inside Jokes

They had all agreed to meet on the team floor's common room once they had reached the dorm. One reason so that they could talk about where they were headed that night and another so Frankie could hand out the rest of their Team USA gear.

"How did you manage to get all this gear up to the second floor?" Mac asked, eyes wide with curiosity as his gaze roamed over the numerous boxes that now littered the common room.

"I'm Wonder Woman," she replied dryly.

"How come you're not in a swim suit?" Verchota mused.

"Don't make me hit you, man," Buzz called out from across the room.

With a roll of her eyes, Frankie explained how she got help from the two delivery guys, the dorm manager and Aaron Broten. "I think they only allowed me to carry one box up."

"Aaron?" Neal piped up. "My little brother was here?"

"Yep," she said with a nod. "He came to say hi and tried to convince me to go back to the Gophers and leave you to your own defenses with Herb. Obviously he wasn't so successful. I'm still here and he's still dateless."

Laughter rang out from a few of the boys, jokes going around about how Neal's brother had been shot down so many times in asking Frankie out for a date. A few expressed their disbelief that the younger Broten was yet to give up despite the number of resounding no's he received.

"Even Verchota gave up after being told no thrice," Janny said in between chuckles.

"And let's not forget how they met," Baker added, hands clutching his stomach as he dissolved into more laughter.

Frankie snickered when she caught sight of how red Phil was getting from all the teasing and inquiries from the rest of the boys about the story of how they met, before deciding to come to his defense. "All right, that's enough. Leave the poor boy alone. We still have your gear waiting in boxes and we still haven't decided what we're doing later."

The group of hockey players decided to stop their teasing, but only under Mac's promise of telling the story at a different time, before they helped open the boxes to start distributing the various hockey gear, jerseys and jackets to their respective owners. There was still one box that was left untouched, a smaller one that sat right by their team manager, leaving them wondering why she had yet to start handing out whatever it contained.

"What's in that one?" Mac asked, his brows furrowed in curiosity at how Frankie's eyes seemed to be glued to what was in it.

"I know how the uniforms are supposed to be patriotic and all that," she started to say. "Red, white and blue will always be a given because of that. You have the white dress shirts and the blue jackets, why couldn't have they just given you a red tie?"

"What?"

"Because seriously," she continued, turning an incredulous stare towards the boys as she picked up a tie from the box beside her. "This is the most ridiculous looking thing that I have ever seen."

"That looks like those swirly things you see at barber shops."

"Or a candy cane."

"That's just wrong."

Dropping the offending piece of cloth back into the box, she passed it over to Mac who took one out before passing the box along to the rest of his teammates. "Now, where to go later," she trailed off.

Several suggestions were thrown out, mostly from the Minnesota boys since they knew the place best. After a short discussion, the boys had agreed to go to Rally Point, a mix between a dance club and a bar and grill that served snacks, full meals, drinks and played good music.

"Now that we've got that settled," Frankie began, slapping her palm against her knee as she stood up. "You boys get some rest and I'll see you later." She started walking towards the door, planning to go up to her room and relax for a bit before stopping in her tracks and turning back around. "If any of you boys plan to have any extra fun tonight, please don't forget to buy condoms."

With that, she spun on her heel and left the common room, shaking her head at the image of OC sputtering in shock, Johnson snapping awake and Silky actually falling out of his seat while her boys from Minnesota hooted in laughter, knowing the story behind her strange request.

* * *

"You know we all said that this night out was also to celebrate your graduation, right?" Verchota asked, eyeing the drink in her hand. "So why are you only drinking a soda?"

"Well, we need designated drivers," she replied. "And before you can say that someone else can take that job, it's fine. I need to wake up early tomorrow anyway."

"It's Saturday," OC stated. "Why would you need to be up early?"

"I need to go home," Frankie said simply.

"Do you mind if I ride with you?" Mac asked. "I wanna visit my parents before we leave."

"Me too," Buzz piped up. "I figured I need to check in with Gayle, even if it's just to see her for the few hours she's home in between shifts at the hospital."

"Or I could just take you home with me tonight," a female voice interjected.

Several people turned their heads to look at the blonde who had walked up to their table in confidence. Whatever curiosity they held for her being quickly dispelled at how Buzz's face lit up before he jumped out of his seat to give the woman a hug and a kiss. Just by the show of affection, they immediately figured out that the girl in their teammate's arms was none other than Gayle Schneider.

"Hey Gayle," Frankie greeted.

"Hey Colt," she replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the younger girl's cheek. "Thanks for giving me the heads up."

"No problem," she waved off dismissively. "Buzzy was starting to look a little pathetic the longer the days went. It was kinda depressing me so I figured you needed to see each other soon. I'm just glad you managed to trade shifts with someone else."

"You know, I'm really starting to hate you," Buzz said dryly.

She feigned a look of hurt, clutching a hand over her chest. "Break my heart, why don't you?"

After being introduced to the guys on the team, Buzz had taken his wife out on the dance floor while a few of the other guys wandered off to play a game of pool, but most still staying at the table just enjoying the music and talking about various topics.

Looking at the faces of the company she kept and given where they were, Frankie started counting in her head before someone mustered up enough guts to sidle up to their table and strike up a conversation. She hadn't even reached the count of 20 until three girls came giggling and pushing at each other slightly, one purposely tripping on her feet to bump into OC who was standing just behind Silky's chair.

"Oh, sorry," the short brunette said in between giggles.

"Why must there always be giggling?" Frankie muttered under her breath. Mac and Rammer, who sat on either side of her, started chuckling at hearing her grumble. No one paid them much mind, however, as OC struck up a conversation with the brunette and her friends before getting into introductions.

As the three girls settled in the seats left vacant by the guys who left to play pool, Mac leaned over to Frankie and whispered "It's a good thing you reminded everyone about condoms."

Rammer snorted, grateful that he wasn't currently taking a sip of his beer, knowing that he would have choked or, worse yet, end up spitting it across the table and in some poor guy's face. Frankie buried her head against the defenseman's shoulder, muffling her laughter at the small quip, the sight of his two friends leaning onto each other making Mac chuckle himself.

The laughing trio soon caught the attention of some of the guys though none of them were able to get any answers even when they asked what was so funny.

"It's an inside joke, don't worry about it," Mac dismissed.

"Come on Rammer," she said, tugging at the boy's arm. "Let's go dance before you get corrupted."

"I think you've already taken care of that!" Mac bellowed jokingly.

* * *

AN: I'm not exactly satisfied with this but I figured I'd post it nonetheless. I know it's a filler, but there are some tidbits here that would be referred to in the future, trust me.

Also, I know Rammer's only 19 (turning 20) around this time, but the legal drinking age in Minnesota didn't get raised to 21 until a few years later so I found it alright to put him in this scene drinking a beer.

In the next chapter - Norway!


	11. Turning Point

Disclaimer: I don't own whatever Brooksisms and/or lines from the movie are found in this chapter.

AN: Thanks to _phoenixfire53_ for the review. I'm glad you found the condom bit funny.

* * *

"How is it that you can understand the plays that your uncle draws on the board but you can't seem to understand the rules of poker?"

Frankie scrunched up her nose in annoyance at Buzz's question. Bah was openly laughing at her and even the usually meek Pav was struggling to keep his chuckles from spilling over. "I'm just not made to be a poker player, alright?" she huffed.

"I'll say," Bah teased. "You have to have the worst poker face I've ever seen and I don't think I've seen anyone lose so badly in just three hands."

That got Pav laughing, no longer attempting to hide it, never mind the look she shot him.

"Quit it!"

"Alright, move over," Mac said, getting up from his seat and moving to were the poker game was, patting Frankie's leg to get her to make some room for him. He caught a glimpse of her cards as he looked over her shoulder before glancing at the pile of coins in the pot. After another look at her cards, he pushed a nickel from her considerably smaller stack of coins and sat back until the others considered their options.

"If you make me lose," she began threateningly.

"You'll what?" he asked. "You were losing already anyway. At least if you go down, you've got someone with you."

"Awh, isn't that cute?" Buzz teased, pinching his own cheek to mock his two friends.

"Maybe I should tell Herb how much you're picking on me and make you do more drills," she mused. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Shutting up now," Bah answered for the rest of them.

"So," Pav started to say after a few seconds of silence. "We've got the last two games in here against the Norway national team. What do you think our chances are? Coach told us that we're in the same bracket in the Olympics and that we'll be playing them."

"Well, considering who else is in your bracket," Frankie began her reply. "I say they'll be the weakest. But still, don't count them out. There's a reason why they're the national team, and a lot can still happen between the next two days and February. But you know, I think it's a good test for you guys."

"Test?" Mac asked, a little confused.

"Yeah, test," she repeated. "Two Olympic teams facing off against each other months prior to the actual games. It's a good precursor for how you might look playing in Lake Placid."

* * *

Frankie sat in the stands beside Walter Bush, opting to watch as a spectator for this game instead of team manager. But even then, she couldn't stop blurring the lines between the two, a little frustrated and a whole lot disappointed at how team USA was playing. And even though very few words were said between her and the general manager, she could tell that he wasn't very happy with what he was seeing either.

"They won six of the first eight games and they played wonderfully," Walter said quietly. "What happened to that team between then and now? It's only been two days."

"I wish I knew," she mused, wincing as Rizzo was checked by a Norwegian player. She shook her head at the scene. She knew that if his head was in the game, he would have seen that coming from a mile away. "Jesus, it doesn't even look like they're talking to each other out there."

Little else was said between them as the seconds ticked by. Frankie's gaze traveled to the bench several times, brows furrowing in worried curiosity as she noticed how stiff her uncle's movements were. As the horn sounded to signify the end of the game, her eyebrows shot up in wonder as she saw both Herb and Craig walk out.

"Do you need a ride to the hotel or are you going to wait for the team?" Walter asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

"I'll wait," she replied.

"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow Miss Coltrane," he said as he stood up to leave.

Frankie moved to the edge of her seat when she saw Craig block the team's exit, the boys begrudgingly skating over to where her uncle now stood in the middle of the ice. "Now what?"

When the players skated to the goal line, she sighed. She couldn't say she didn't see it coming. She could only hope that they weren't in too much trouble or they were going to be in for a very rude awakening.

As they started to do the first set of drills, she decided to find her way down to the bench where Craig and Doc stood, pausing on the stairs as she noticed how Walter had stopped to watch, along with a few other people who appeared curious as to what was going on. The general manager sent her a look, her only response being a shrug, before she climbed down the steps and went on her way.

"You think you can win on talent alone," she heard her uncle say just as she had stepped up beside Doc. "Gentlemen, you don't have enough talent to win on talent alone. Again."

"This is bad," she muttered under her breath as she watched the second set of drills.

"You think you can come in here and play the Norwegian national team and tie 'em, and then go to the Olympics and win? You got another thing coming."

_Another whistle._

"You better think about something else, each and every one of you. When you pull on that jersey, you represent yourself and your teammates. And the name on the front is a hell of a lot more important than the one on the back! Get that through your heads! Again."

From the corner of her eye, she saw how Craig seemed to be in shock at how demeaning Herb was being towards the players. But as she listened to him go on, Frankie began to understand the point he was trying to get across. It was the same one he's been drilling into their heads since day one, something the boys have obviously kept missing. As much as she felt sorry for them for having to go through the pain of skating over and over again after a full game, she knew that they had to figure things out on their own.

"Win, lose or tie, you're gonna play like champions. Again!"

_Another whistle._

"All the way to the line and all the way back, it's not that difficult. Again!"

_Another whistle._

She had started to lose count of how many drills they had skated as her eyes roamed around the empty arena, trying to focus on anything else other than the line of players who looked about ready to fall down. Her gaze fell to her uncle, who looked near murderous as he glared at the boys. Craig had become increasingly angry at what was happening but kept his mouth shut nonetheless. The rink manager had caught Doc's attention, and were talking, no doubt arguing in broken English about getting the players off the ice so he can clean up. The arena was now completely empty save for them. Walter and the handful of spectators that paused to see what was going on had long since left, which now left her wondering how much longer they were going to be here.

A much welcomed reprieve came when Doc had walked onto the ice and made his way over to Herb. Whether what he says would change a thing or not, the extra couple of seconds the boys got to catch some of their breath was better than nothing.

It wasn't much, however, as Herb called for the whistle not even ten seconds after Doc had approached. Craig had actually paused and cocked his head to the side, silently asking if he was serious, but blew the whistle either way after Herb had insisted. The tension could be felt between the two coaches as they sent looks to each other from opposite ends of the ice.

"You keep playing this way, you won't beat anybody who's even good, let alone great."

Frankie's head disappeared into her hands when she saw Baker and Mac fall to the ice once they reached the goal line. Her thoughts went back to the argument she had heard between her Craig and her uncle, how the boys were about to lose their legs. And this scene definitely made it ring truer than ever.

"You wanna make this team then you better start playing at a level that's gonna force me to keep you here! Again!"

As soon as the words left Herb's lips, the arena lights had been turned off, no doubt the rink manager's way of saying to get out. Frankie heard Craig let out a sigh of relief, but from her uncle's stance, she knew that it was far from over.

A few of the guys had started skating off the line, but before they can even get farther than a foot, Herb had told them to get back on the line. Craig and Doc shared a wary glance, with the assistant coach's gaze falling on Frankie's hunched form before looking back at Herb. His expression was incredulous as he was asked to send the boys on the drill once again, left in utter disbelief at how relentless and unforgiving Herb was being.

More whistles had been blown, far more than any of them could have ever expected. The sounds of bodies hitting the ice had Frankie wincing, Doc was becoming increasingly worried as a few of the boys had begun retching, while Craig silently stewed in anger. But despite whatever resistance he showed in blowing the whistle, he still sent the boys on.

"Doc, I mean, this is madness right?" the assistant coach asked. "Frankie, can't you say anything?"

Doc could only nod his head in response but Frankie said nothing. She may have been the team manager but she had never questioned Herb on matters like this before, only speaking her mind when he actually asked.

"This cannot be a team of common men, because common men go nowhere. You have to be uncommon. Again."

"Herb!" Doc called out. "This has gone on long enough."

"Everybody on that line."

"Somebody's going to get hurt."

Herb only turned his head away in response. "Everybody get on that line," he said evenly, hands on his hips as he waited for the players to get back on their feet. "Again."

Craig had mustered up enough defiance to not blow the whistle at some point, shaking his head as Herb insisted on it a few times. Just as he was about to give in, a voice that wasn't Herb Brooks' had boomed throughout the arena.

"Mike Eruzione! Winthrop, Massachusetts!"

His exclamation caught everyone's attention, most especially Herb's. While all other eyes were on Rizzo, Frankie's was on her uncle's. She had come to know the expectant look on his face as he regarded the team captain, realizing that this could be just what he was waiting for.

"Who do you play for?"

"Come on Rizzo," Frankie mumbled, rubbing her palms together. "Give him what he wants."

That had Craig snapping his head back to her, curious as to what she meant. Her only reply was a small smile and a nod before turning her gaze back on the ice.

"I play for," Rizzo began, heaving a ragged breath of air in between words. "The United States of America!"

Even from the opposite end of the ice, Frankie could see the small smile that tugged at the corner of Herb's lips. That was it.

"That's all gentlemen."

Her smile grew wider as her uncle started to walk off the ice, sending her a knowing look before he disappeared to the locker room. Craig had sent her a bemused smile, realization finally dawning on him regarding what just happened.

As the boys collapsed to heaps on the ice, Doc had urged them both to help him in getting the boys to the locker room. She had made her way over to Jimmy and Janny first, knowing that they were perhaps in the most pain. Goalies rarely skated that much, and with having their full gear on, they were at an even bigger disadvantage.

"Are you two okay?" she asked as she began to help them with their pads. "Just leave your gear on the ice. I need to get you to the locker room first. I'll get them for you later."

"Your uncle is crazy," Jimmy said in between heavy breaths.

"Alright, let's go," she said, throwing one of his arms over her shoulders and wrapping one of hers around his waist for support. "I'll come back for you later Janny."

"Okay."

She had to purse her lips to hide her smile as the Minnesotan goalie just laid spread out on the ice. She sent questioning glances to the other players that they had passed that were still trying to gather their bearings, receiving a few small smiles saying they were fine in return.

Once Jimmy made it to the locker room, she ran back to help whoever was left on the ice. She had walked past Craig who had helped Janny back, and a few other players that managed to find some semblance of strength to walk back alone.

"There's no one left on the ice," Mac said as she approached. "Just some of the gear waiting to be picked up."

"Are you okay?" she asked, wrapping an arm around his waist. Her hand reached up to touch his cheek, stained red from all the strain he was put through.

His own hand came up over hers, smiling tiredly. "I'll be fine."

* * *

Frankie walked to her door in a sleepy haze, mumbling under her breath about people waking her up at all hours of the night. She was fully awakened though when she opened the door to find Mac running a palm down his face, his sleep tousled hair indicating that he was rudely pulled from sleep just like she was.

"You just had to make me room with OC," he said darkly. "Do you know how loud he snores? I'm pretty sure Magic could hear it and he's three doors down! I really don't want to deal with that after doing all those Herbies."

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling apologetically but the mirth dancing in her eyes said otherwise. "You can stay here instead," she offered, pulling the door wider so he could come in. "And what the hell is a Herbie?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said, pushing his way in. "And we're calling those drills Herbies. I think it's appropriate. The guys say he's the only coach they know who does it."

That left her amused but her smile fell into a frown as she watched him make his way over to the bed. If the limp wasn't enough cause for worry, the groans he let out as he laid down were.

"No pain, no gain, right?" he mused, patting the other side of the double bed. "Drop that worried look from your face and sleep."

With a defeated sigh, she crawled into bed, knowing that arguing with him was futile and that they needed as much sleep as they could get. She lay on her side, studying his profile for a few seconds before he turned to face her, flashing that smile he was known for.

"Stop worrying," he said quietly, smoothing a finger over her brows before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now go to sleep."

"Goodnight Robbie."

"Goodnight Frankie."


	12. In Action

AN: Don't you just hate it when life gets in the way of updates? Sorry guys, I had tons of work so I didn't have much time to write fics. But hey, here I am now.

Thanks to _BlurredHorizon_ and _ShioriOokami_ for following the story, and a huge THANK YOU to _phoenixfire53 _for the last review. That was one of the best compliments I've received when it comes to my writing. :)

Without further ado, here's the next chapter. Something fun to tide you over.

* * *

Frankie sat on her bed, back leaning against the headboard as she read a book. She smiled to herself as she turned the page, thinking of the day she, along with Team USA, had come back from a two week trip in Europe. Patti had insisted that she spend her first night back at the Brooks household, saying how Kelly and Danny had missed her. And as soon as she had walked through the door, her younger cousins had latched onto her. Danny had been the first to let go, rushing upstairs only to come back moments later with a present clutched in his hands – a welcome home present, he said. Kelly had helped her tear through the wrapping paper. Frankie smiled from ear to ear when she uncovered the latest novel by Stephen King.

_"Now you have something to do during those long bus and plane rides," Herb commented. "Some of the boys know better than to bother you when your nose is stuck in a book."_

_"Do you like it, honey?" Patti asked, her expression expectant._

_"Of course," Frankie replied. "Thank you so much!"_

_"We got new books too!" Kelly said excitedly. "Will you read one to me later?"_

_"Sure."_

A knock on her door pulled her from the memory, a sigh escaping her lips as she thought of who could be on the other side of her door. She had no doubt that it was one of the boys, perhaps even more. While many would go to great lengths to be in her place, the novelty of spending most of her waking hours with 26 Olympic hopefuls quickly wore off after their trip to Europe, especially when a lot of what she heard were complaints, girls, and complaints about girls.

"The door's open," she called out.

"What if I was a serial killer?"

"Then I'm screwed, aren't I?" she replied dryly. "Hey Robbie."

"What's that?" he asked, walking towards her bed after closing the door.

"_The Dead Zone,_" she said. "Aunt Patti gave it to me as a coming home present. It's good. I'll let you borrow it when I'm done. After Jimmy though. He asked me about it yesterday."

He blinked once before saying anything. "Cool, thanks."

Frankie watched with curious eyes as Mac flopped down at her feet, stretching across her bed as he stared up at the ceiling. She waited for a few moments, expecting him to say one thing or the other, but none came. "So," she trailed off. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"You give me crappy roommates, you know that?" he pointed out.

"You're rooming with Magic," she recalled. "What's wrong with Johnson? I know he doesn't snore or you'd have been crashing in here or with some of the other boys weeks ago."

"He's on the phone with Leslie," he groaned out, running his palm down his face. Before she could ask who he was talking about, he continued. "She's Magic's girlfriend, no wait, I think it's fiancé now. I'm not entirely sure. But yeah, they've been talking for close to an hour and he's making me sick. I seriously think ants will start coming into our room coz of how he's being. That or I might end up with diabetes just from listening to him sweet talk his girl."

Frankie chuckled at the childish pout set on his lips as he went on his rant, shaking her head at his reasoning. "Give him a break," she said, lightly hitting his shoulder with the book in her hands. "I think it's sweet. They haven't seen each other in a while and his birthday's coming up. It must be hard for both of them to be apart."

"Speaking of birthdays," he began to say, turning his head to the side so he could look at her. "The boys want to go out for Magic's birthday. But it'll be a joint celebration for him, Buzzy and Wells. Buzzy said that Gayle's coming. You'll go, right?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, yes," Mac said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "But just so we're clear, if you say no, I hope you're prepared to have several hands grope at your limbs as we whisk you away and into the bar of our choosing."

"Try it and someone will lose their limbs."

"Just me and Jimmy then?" he asked. The playful mask of innocence on his face dropped when she fixed him with a glare. "Just me?" he squeaked, his laughter ringing out when she pelted him repeatedly with her pillow.

* * *

"I don't believe it," Rizzo said in playful disbelief, his gaze following Dave Christian as a pretty blonde tugged him onto the dance floor.

"Nor do I," OC agreed, frowning as he looked at the glass of beer in his hands. He had approached the blonde minutes ago, laying the charm on thick in hopes of a good time, only to be shot down when she said she was waiting for her boyfriend. But no sooner than Davey had come back to their table after a trip to the bathroom, the same pretty blonde had boldly come up to him for a dance, an obvious slight to the self-proclaimed best catch of the group. He smirked as he raised the glass to his lips, eyes bright with mischief. "Well, I guess the blind squirrel found her nut."

The group broke out in laughter at hearing OC's quip, making their amusement at the usually cocky player being turned down for the more reserved Davey more apparent.

"Did you remind Davey about the condoms?" Mac asked, leaning in conspiratorially, as if there was some big secret.

Frankie pushed his head back, her features etched with mock annoyance before turning back to her conversation to a now giggling Gayle.

"I really wanna know what that means," OC piped up from his seat. "Come on, Colt. Tell me. It'll make me feel better about that broad choosing Davey over me."

"I'd choose Davey over you Jackie," she replied, batting her eyelashes as the boys began laughing again. "But if you really wanna know, it's to protect you and your virtue. Not that you still have any. I don't even think Philly knows what virtue means."

"Hey!" Verchota called out. "Don't drag me into this! And I do know what that means, thank you very much!"

"Not that he practices it," Gayle muttered under her breath.

"Think about what's gonna leave your mouth next Verchota," Buzz said warningly to his teammate, knowing that his wife was his intended target.

"You're just lucky that this is supposed to be your late birthday celebration."

"Let's get back to the topic at hand here," OC chimed in. "I still wanna know what that condoms thing is about."

"It's for your future."

"What?" Jimmy prodded, revealing that even he was curious about it.

"Well, let's take a look at OC for example," Frankie began to say in a bored tone. She pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide a smile as the boys leaned forward to hear what she had to say. Mac, Buzz, Verchota and Gayle were the only people sitting around them that knew what the story was behind the condoms reminder, and they looked just as amused at the scene before them as she was.

"Do you remember how many girls he's flirted with, made out with and/or slept with in all the years you've known him?" she asked, her eyes travelling to the other three Boston boys. "No scratch that, how many girls has he been with since training started?"

"I don't really keep count but there's been a lot," OC said smugly. "What can I say? I see a lot of action."

"Why am I not surprised?" she grumbled, staring at him blankly. "Do you ever wonder what if you got a girl pregnant? You could be enjoying yourself as a Blackhawk one minute and then boom! Your face is plastered across the newspapers with the headline 'Is This Jack O'Callahan's Baby?' Frankly, the thought of mini OCs kinda scare me. But then there could be more than just one girl claiming to have carried your lovechild, and that's an even scarier thought. You'd be fighting court battles for child support until you're bankrupt. Think of how disappointed your parents are gonna be. And do you know how many diseases you can get from having unprotected sex? OC! You could be dying right now and you don't even know it!"

The combination of Frankie's scandalized expression and OC's slackened jaw had everyone roaring.

"I'm sorry we asked," Jimmy said in between his laughs.

"Where do you come up with these things?" Silky asked, his face a mask of shock and amusement.

"Where does she come up with anything that she says?" Mac chimed in after catching his breath. "I think it's a Brooks trait. Just pull words from thin air and string them into a sentence. Nothing really makes sense."

"I make complete sense," Frankie argued. "Uncle Herb does too, you just don't get it."

"But you know," Buzz interjected. "If you really wanna be entertained by her, leave her alone in the middle of the bar and wait for some drunken fool to approach her. That's where the real fun is."

"Yes, but that's for a different time," she said. "I can't show you all my tricks yet. Plus, I don't really want any strange men coming onto me. Dealing with Mac earlier was enough."

"Hey!"

* * *

She had just pulled the covers down when a soft knock rapped against her door, brows furrowing part in confusion and part in annoyance that someone just didn't want her to go to sleep just yet. Dropping the hold she had on her blanket, she dragged her feet across the floor and pulled the door open, glaring at her late night – or early morning – visitor.

"Wipe that smile off your face McClanahan," she said dryly. "Your pretty boy image isn't gonna save you from my wrath."

"Try saying that with a little more energy and I might believe the whole wrath thing," he joked. "And aww, you think I'm pretty," he continued with a cheeky grin.

"What do you want Robbie?" she asked with a glower.

"Can I sleep here?"

"Magic's on the phone again, huh?" she mused, turning to walk back to her bed and letting him walk right in.

"Yeah," he replied, closing the door behind him. "She actually waited up for him to come back from a night out. They've been saying goodnight and I love you to each other for five minutes before I decided to leave."

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as she slid into bed, his eyes darting from her couch and the empty spot beside her. He smiled when she pulled the covers down again, a silent invitation for him to join her in bed. He slipped in right next to her, both lying on their sides facing each other.

"Turn the lamp off," she said, eyes barely open as she looked at him. A sleepy smile graced her lips when he did as she asked, burrowing further under the warmth of the blankets as darkness enveloped the room. "Goodnight Robbie."

"Goodnight Frankie."


	13. What It Takes

"Well, we're taxiing out to the runway, right? And uh we, you know, we kinda hit a moose."

Frankie pressed her lips together to suppress her amusement at the strange situation they had gotten into. She knew she couldn't show it, knowing how tired the boys were and how the lot of them just wanted to get home so they could get some much needed sleep. Laughing at their predicament would just remind them that it was that much longer 'til they could rest their heads upon their pillows. Her efforts were dashed, however, at the next words to leave her uncle's mouth.

"Patti, the moose is okay. It ran off. I saw it."

"You can laugh if you want to," Jimmy muttered from his spot beside her. "But should you really be eavesdropping on your uncle's phone conversation?"

"The fact that you know what I'm laughing at means that you're doing it too," smirking as she pointed it out.

He smiled sheepishly before turning his gaze away, eyes travelling to the rest of his teammates. He shook his head at the Coneheads who were playing poker with Janny as their card dealer, and envied how some of the boys managed to be able to catch some sleep despite being wet from the rain and the uncomfortable chairs they were sitting on. He turned to look back at Frankie when he felt her drape the afghan over his lap, the warmth slowly creeping up his legs. His brows furrowed, though, when he noticed she was preoccupied, her gaze trained on Herb, as his was trained on the TV just behind where they were seated.

Jimmy strained to hear what was being reported, eyes widening when he heard how the NHL All-Stars were defeated by the Soviets in a 6-0 game. "Jeeze," he said under his breath. "How the hell do you compete with that?"

"With a lot of hard work," came her distant reply. Turning her attention back to the goalie by her side, she looked straight into his eyes, hoping that he understood what she meant. "No more fist fights or spotting blondes in the crowd," she managed to jest.

"Hey now, I wasn't part of either of those situations," he joked back, knowing that it was better to make light of things rather than dwell on them. It was something he had learned from her over the Saturdays that they had spent together. Which reminded him, "We missed a Saturday," he mused.

"We're bound to miss a couple," she said. "The joys of travelling, eh?"

"You wanna go on free days?"

"You don't have to sacrifice your rare days off to accompany me, you know? I know you need your rest and relaxation."

"What if I tell you that going with you relaxes me?" he asked quietly. "Honestly, I've never felt more at peace with what happened and what's going on back home than when I'm with you on those days. I've learned how to deal with it better just from watching you."

"Really?"

Jimmy quirked an eyebrow at her at hearing the disbelief in her tone. "Why is that surprising to you?"

"I don't know," Frankie said with a shrug. "I guess I just don't see it like you do. I think I'm still stuck in the same place I've been since last spring, so hearing you say that is kinda news to me."

"You need to give yourself more credit."

The finality in his tone told her that she wasn't going to win their discussion, making her choose to remain silent and just enjoy his company.

"You put those cold hands on me, Robbie, and I'll make sure to put you in a room with OC and Magic on our next road trip."

Mac popped his head from around the corner, eyes wide in astonishment that he was caught before plastering on a huge grin. "It was worth a try," he said with a shrug.

Jimmy chuckled and shook his head before asking about the threat with the roommates.

"He can't sleep coz OC snores and Magic likes to sweet talk Leslie for hours on end," Frankie explained. "So then he knocks on my door asking if he could stay with me. Needless to say, if he went ahead with what he was planning, I'll make him sleep in the hallway."

"You're evil," Mac said, his lips settling into a pout. "I'm cold."

"Go hug OC."

"Frankie," he whined.

"What? This afghan is only big enough for me and Jimmy to share. Go away."

Deciding to play along with the banter, Jimmy threw an arm around Frankie's shoulder and pulled her against his side, her head falling onto his shoulder.

"Fine, I know where I'm not wanted," Mac said in a huff before stomping his way towards the Coneheads.

Having overheard their conversation and seeing the looks that crossed his teammate's face, Buzz shook his head in amusement. He'd had his suspicions about what was going on regarding their team manager and the two hockey players who appeared closer to her than the other guys on the team, but it was just then when he got a better idea of the feelings involved. "They're just friends," he said under his breath as Mac sat on the empty seat beside him. After receiving a glare, "Need I remind you that it was your idea to push them together?" he continued.

"Whatever."

"You okay, Mac?" Bah asked, noticing the scowl on the other player's face.

"He's just cold and cranky. He needs to be put to bed soon."

* * *

The boys moved sluggishly as they prepared for their first practice of the day. After the fiasco with the plane the night prior resulting in them arriving back in Minneapolis late, thus giving them less time for rest, no one was particularly energetic about going to the morning practice.

"We're just playing Minnesota anyway, why do we have to practice?" OC groaned. If he had said it at the beginning of their training, several of his teammates would have charged him for a fight, but the playful gleam in his eyes when he spoke told of his joking demeanor.

"Hello? Last season's champs are pretty evenly divided between this team and the current Gophers roster," Janny pointed out. "And from what Brots says, they started off this season really well."

"Yeah," Neal agreed. "Granted, it's only been about five games or so but they're definitely playing off from last season's momentum. I went to their second game with Colt and we were blown away."

"When was that?" Mac asked, a slight edge of jealousy laced in his tone. "And how come we weren't invited."

"It was the day before the Canada game and we did tell you guys but you said you'd rather go out or sleep," came the reply. "It was too bad. All of you would have enjoyed it, especially the part where Frankie broke my brother's heart."

"What did Aaron do now?" Verchota asked, chuckling as he shook his head.

"He played wounded puppy while she kept raving on about Harrer. The guy nearly scored a hat trick and had two assists, which says a lot considering it was just a 4-3 win for the U. He looks great on defense too."

"Are we sure it was Colt raving about him?" Bah mused with a raised eyebrow, some boys laughing when they realized what he meant.

Neal only smirked before explaining that those were the team manager's words and not his. His teammates were getting ready to heckle him further but Coach Craig came in before they could.

"Oh good, you're not in gear yet," he said with a sigh of relief, prompting looks of surprise from the boys. "Herb wants everyone in the classroom at the end of the hall in five minutes."

The boys exchanged looks of confusion before trudging out of the locker room in various states of preparedness, some leaving with just their hockey undergarments on while others pulled on sweatshirts. When they reached the classroom, they immediately noticed the film projector set up and Frankie rearranging seats.

"Good morning," she greeted with a small smile. "Take a seat. There aren't enough so some of you will have to remain standing."

"What's going on?" a few of the guys asked.

"You'll see in a while."

As the boys found whatever spot to settle on, Herb came in and shut the lights off before turning on the projector, effectively causing everyone to grow quiet.

"Russian style of play, boys – fluid, creative, forwards are constantly circling. They don't so much look for the man as they do a patch of ice. You get the mismatch, two on one, easy goal."

Murmurs of astonishment rose up from several of the boys. Frankie noted how some of them looked too awestruck to even tear their eyes away from the black and white film of a Russian practice session being projected on the screen.

"Looks a lot like me out there, huh boys?" Bah quipped, causing a few chuckles to ring out.

"Boris Mikhailov," Herb continued, paying no mind to the cause of their amusement. "Captain for the last six years, he is the best player in his position. And that includes, as we just found out, the NHL."

"Do these guys ever smile?" Baker mused, taking note of how robotic the Soviet players seemed to be during their training.

"They're Russians, they get shot if they smile," OC joked, though his face remained serious.

"Vladislav Tretiak," Herb went on, amidst even more murmurs of awe. "You score on Tretiak, keep the puck coz it doesn't happen very often," he continued, exchanging a look with Jimmy who looked visibly nervous at seeing the opposing goalie's skill. "42 games in the last three months, 42 wins. They're main weapon is intimidation. They _know_ they're gonna win and so do their opponents."

As her uncle shut off the projector, Frankie flipped the switch to turn on the lights, her gaze travelling across the room to see looks of shock and awe amongst the players, a few looking disheartened at seeing such a high level of play from the Soviets when they could barely understand some of the plays their coach had been formulating for them.

"Look," Herb began as he made his way towards the front of the room. "I can give you all a load of crap about how you're a better team than they are, but that's exactly what it'd be. And everyone in this room knows what people are saying about our chances. I know it, you know it. But I also know there is a way to stay with this team."

She had to press her lips together to stop the smile from peeking through at seeing the boys sit up straighter, now even more captivated at the speech her uncle was giving. Even from her spot at the back of the room, she could see the gleam in Herb's eyes now that he had everyone's attention.

"You don't defend them," he started, crossing out the defensive positions on the board. "You _attack _them. You take their game and you _shove it _right back in their face. The team that is finally willing to do this is the team that has a chance to put them down. He paused, taking a quick glance at the group of young hockey players in front of him, looking to see if they understood what he was saying. "NHL won't change their game. We will. The rest of the world is afraid of them. Boys, we won't be. No one has ever worked hard enough to skate with the Soviet team for an entire game. Gentlemen, we are gonna work hard enough."

With that promise, Herb told the team to get ready, feeling quite proud that he was able to put the looks of determination on their faces.

"Time for the real work to begin, huh?" Frankie mused as the last of the players left the room.

"You know it."


	14. Coming to Grips

AN: I'm back! Again, life just got in the way, as well as other things. I may or may not have other story ideas in the works, namely 2 other _Miracle_ stories (I'm making it a mission to expand the archives), a _Mighty Ducks_ story and even a _CSI NY_ one. It's really a crazy jungle in my head when it comes to those.

I'm working on getting an update for my other stories though so if you're reading this and you haven't read/reviewed those yet, go check them out. Speaking of reviews, thanks to _phoenixfire53_ for the review of the last chapter.

Thanks to everyone lurking around the story too, but I'd really love it if you guys can review. Please? :)

* * *

Shuffling several papers in her hands, Frankie made her way around the halls of the Bloomington Ice Arena, her eyes being torn away from the documents when she heard several voices call out her name as she passed one doorway. Doubling back, she found herself in front of the weight room, waving hello to its occupants. After the impromptu film showing of sorts the day prior, which was followed by a full day of training on the ice, Herb thought the team could do with some land training before they went up against Minnesota that night. From lifting weights to stretches to running up and down the stairs – they did it all. She'd heard them call it their coach's personal brand of torture, but from the looks of some of them, they were getting the hang of it now.

"How's it going Colt?" Bah asked as she approached the wall.

"It's going," she replied, waving the papers in her hands as if it made everything clearer. A smirk tugged up at her lips as her eyes travelled from one guy to the next. "I'd ask how you're all doing but it looks to me like you guys are getting pretty bored."

Buzz looked up at her, a thoughtful expression on his face as he shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure if it's a good or a bad thing that we're starting to get used to this."

Nods and grunts of affirmation came from the others, leaving the team manager even more amused. Of all the training methods her uncle had them doing, it was by unanimous vote that the so-called Herbies, especially when it goes high up in repetition, were the worst on the ice, while the wall-sits were the most hated on land. Yet there they were, looking almost comfortable enough to be able to do it while watching a TV show or reading a book or, dare she say it, play poker.

"Maybe you can try adding weights," she mused. "Sit it on your lap or something."

OC beamed with a wolfish grin at her suggestion, eyes filled with mirth as he asked "Wanna sit on my lap?"

Frankie opened her mouth to make a witty retort, but before any sound could come from her, Mac fell into a heap on the floor, causing the rest of the guys sitting against the wall that the first round of drinks were on him that night since he was the first to fall. She only managed to shake her head as they heckled him before walking away.

"You really need to suck it up and just ask her out already," Pav said, looking pointedly at Mac once their team manager was out of earshot.

Bah let out a low whistle. "And you know, Pav is like Magic – if they're saying something about it, you know it's bad," he said, referring to how the two aforementioned teammates of theirs rarely said anything that could ruffle any feathers.

"If it's Jimmy that you're worried about, don't be," OC added. "They're just friends. If it was more than that, we'd know. Or at least Rizzo would."

"Do you think she'd say yes?" Mac asked in a quiet voice.

"Hallelujah!" Buzz exclaimed. "You finally admit to it. And yes, I'm sure she'll agree to go out on a date with you, assuming that you plan on asking her out this century."

"Buzzy's right," Bah chimed in. "It's only gonna happen if you actually get off your ass and ask her out. Jeez, you'd think it was Herb that you're asking."

"Not Herb, just his niece," OC quipped. "And to think that you were talking about warnings and such when we first met her but really, you were just pining for her and trying to scare us away until you could get your act together. But seriously man, it's Colt. You've been friends with her for a while. That has to count for something."

"Is that why you're stalling?" Pav asked, his head cocking to the side as the thought came to him. "That asking her out could ruin your friendship?"

"That's a load of crap," OC interjected. "Them being friends first would just make it easier."

"I think Pav has a point," Buzz chimed in. "Colt is too great a friend to lose if Mac screws it up."

"But we don't even know if Mac will screw it up," Bah pointed out. "We don't even know whether they're gonna have a first date coz he hasn't moved yet."

"I wish you guys would stop talking like I'm not here," Mac grumbled, sending a withering look at his teammates.

"Ask her out and we will."

* * *

"Hey Colt, do you mind taking over with Jimmy? I have to go over a couple of things with Janny for later."

"No problem, coach," she said with a smile, only for her expression to turn curious as the assistant coach handed her a couple of tennis balls. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

Jimmy stood quietly off to the side as Coach Patrick explained what the training exercise entailed before rushing off to find the Minnesotan goalie. He smirked as Frankie turned to him, her eyes wide as if she was told to do the impossible. "Come on," he said, tugging at her arm.

After another brief explanation of what it was that they were supposed to be doing, which basically had her throwing tennis balls at the wall while he attempted to catch them in the rebound, they fell into training. Once they got into a steady rhythm, they began to talk.

"Are you excited for tonight's game?" he asked. "I know that there are still a couple of Gophers on that team that you've worked with before."

"Yeah," Frankie replied. "It's just too bad that I'm not watching."

Jimmy missed the ball that came flying back at him, clipping his arm as he turned his head in curiosity. He stood to his full height and turned fully to look at her.

She shrugged at the silent question in his gaze. "The game's in St. Paul," she began. "I asked Uncle Herb if I could skip it instead so I can go to the cemetery. He said yes and that Aunt Patty wanted me over for dinner anyway so I should just head over to their house after."

"Will you be okay going alone?" he asked, his brows furrowed in thought.

"I've been going there alone long before you came along, you know?" she teased with a grin. "But I have to admit, I got used to you coming with me."

"Maybe I can still go with you," he mused. "Janny's playing anyway."

"They still need a backup goalie, just in case," she pointed out. "Uncle Herb already sent Horsch home so it has to be you."

Jimmy nodded dejectedly, knowing there was no winning that discussion for him, before turning back around to get on with the training. The two easily found their rhythm again, continuing mostly in silence.

"Are you excited?" Frankie asked after a few moments. "The Harvard game's gonna be at the end of this next road trip."

"I am," he said with a wide grin. "Pop said he was gonna come down and watch. He's pretty excited to meet you too."

"If you talk to him again before then, tell him I can't wait to meet him either."

* * *

It was all that Mac could take of their conversation, turning around abruptly and disappearing down the hallway before either Jimmy or Frankie could even realize that he had been anywhere near and had heard their whole spiel.

_Just friends,_ he thought bitterly. _Right._

He slid inside an empty room, not in any mood to get heckled by the rest of his teammates for chickening out on talking to their team manager. Once the door clicked shut, he walked further into the room and leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath as he slid to the floor. As disappointed as he was at the turn of events, he really had no one else to blame for it but himself. Buzz was right in what he said from a few days before – it was his idea to have Jimmy and Frankie together. While he meant for the two to have someone to talk to about their personal issues, the possibility of them becoming more than friends had always been there.

_You're too late._

It was only recently that he had come to terms with the fact that he liked Frankie as anything more than a friend. If he could be completely honest, he had liked her since high school, probably even before that.

She was that 8-year old girl who lived a couple of streets down that he ran away from because she had cooties but played pond hockey with on occasion. She was that 13-year old girl who wasn't afraid to show that she was smart. She was that 15-year old who, despite being teased about being a nerd and being too boyish to catch anyone's attention, didn't have a bad thing to say about anyone else other than facts. She was that 17-year old who still kept going despite the world crashing around her.

He still remembered the winter of '74 when her mom died in that accident. He thought it was weird that she had not been at school, knowing that she was perfectly fine and healthy the day before. Having lived near her, their high school counselor thought he was the best choice to send home with her homework. To that day, he still felt the inner battle on wanting to have been there or some other place. He still remembered how broken she looked when she opened the door – eyes rimmed red and tear tracks evident on her cheeks despite her best efforts to wipe them away. It was a heartbreaking sight, one that he had to see again five years later.

All he wanted to do then, now, for as long as she'd let him, was to make all of her pain go away. He hadn't acted on it though, knowing that she was in too fragile an emotional state to handle a relationship. She needed a friend to lean on, and he made sure that he was it. Sure, the rest of the Gophers had proven to be great friends of hers as well, and she had other friends outside of the hockey team, but he knew her the best. They all voiced their opinions before on whether or not there was something more to their friendship, only to be told otherwise. And when Frankie ended up with a steady boyfriend, there were no more questions about Mac.

_It's your own damn fault, _he thought. _You never could get your head out of your ass quick enough._


	15. Conversations in Between

"You wanna tell me what's up with you and Robbie?"

Jim ran a palm down his face and let out a deep breath before turning his head to face her. "To be honest, I don't know," he replied exasperatedly. "He's been weird with me this whole leg. I was actually hoping that you'd know what's up."

His eyebrows shot up when Frankie sighed dejectedly beside him. "What?"

"He hasn't talked to me," she whispered. "And considering that he's rooming with OC for this road trip, I find it bad that he hasn't attempted to sneak out of their room and barge into mine."

Jim's eyes blinked rapidly, a clueless expression on his face as he tried to comprehend what was going on. For several days, he had been getting the cold shoulder from Mac, with no idea of the reason why. He had hoped that Frankie had something that could shed light to the situation, only to find out that she hasn't talked to the forward either.

"Huh."

"Don't know what to say?"

"Yeah."

"Same here."

"Did you two fight before we left Minnesota?"

"Last I talked to him was the day of the Gopher game and he seemed fine," she answered. "You? You didn't steal his socks or anything, did you?"

"Why would I steal his socks?" the goalie asked.

"Figured I'd make a joke," she shrugged. "It's pretty depressing that we don't know what's up with him and he's been great at avoiding us thus far."

"Not really avoiding, since we're either cramped on this bus or on the ice," he began, sending her a sideways glance. "It's just hard to try to talk to someone when there are too many ears listening."

"What do you think Buzzy?" she said with a smirk.

Jim chuckled as Frankie grinned when they felt the bump against the back of their seats. The two craned their necks upward when Buzz popped his head from his seat behind them.

"I hate when you do that," he grumbled while looking at their team manager. "Anyway, I think I know why but I don't think it's my place to say. Of course, I also doubt that _he'll_ say anything any time soon or at all, so I'm really in a debate with myself on whether or not I should tell you, but like you said, there are too many ears. Right Rammer?"

"You just had to bring me into this," the young defenseman said from his seat across theirs. He glowered at Buzz before turning his gaze on Frankie. "I'll come to your room when we reach the hotel. We'll talk then."

"Are we having a slumber party?"

"You're not invited Verchota."

"Hey!"

* * *

"We can manage, don't worry."

Some of the players looked up when they heard Herb's voice as he stepped out of the coach's office with Frankie.

"I'll still be taking notes though," she said with a single nod, holding up a clipboard to emphasize her point.

"You do that," her uncle said with a pat to her shoulder. "Go on then."

She smiled up at him before flashing a grin at the players who were looking on, giving a small wave as she turned to walk out the door.

"Where's Colt going?" Craig asked.

"She'll be in the stands. She said she wanted to keep Jimmy's dad company."

As their coaches began to talk about the upcoming game, Rammer, Buzz and Jim exchanged glances. Their eyes drifted to Mac as he began his ritual of taping his stick with a glower on his face.

The looks didn't escape the notice of the rest of the team, though no one spoke for fear of an argument breaking out. Everyone was well aware about the cold shoulder the forward had been giving their goalie and team manager, as well as the reason for it. They all knew that Mac was already frustrated, but hearing where Frankie was headed more than likely made him more sensitive. As much as Jim wanted to talk to him, he knew it wasn't the time or place, opting to just focus on the game they were going to have against Harvard in a matter of minutes rather than his brooding teammate.

* * *

"You were awesome tonight, man," OC practically gushed, clapping a hand against Mac's shoulder as they walked out into the chilly November night.

"Thanks Boston boy," Mac replied with a cocky grin, earning a few chuckles from some of their teammates who saw the exchange.

A few others gave the Minnesota forward some recognition of his great game, Magic even smiling like a fool as they heard Herb and Craig talking about being kept on the same scoring line. The jovial atmosphere fell however when they spotted Frankie standing off to the side of the building with Jim and his father. With a snort, Mac stalked off towards the bus, hurtling his hockey bag into the boot and stomping his whole way onto the vehicle.

"He really needs to get over himself," OC grumbled.

"That and they all need to just talk," Magic continued. "They have the rest of us walking on eggshells coz of him, and it's just bad timing for Jim."

"I feel bad for Colt, really," Buzz said, joining in on the conversation as they put their hockey bags in the boot.

"We all do," OC said. "I don't think anyone really asks to be in the middle of this mess and Mac's not doing her any favors."

"No getting mad and throwing punches," Buzz joked, trying to lighten up their talk. "Magic can't lose his best winger right now."

* * *

"Not that I don't like sitting next to you but I thought you said you were gonna sit with Mac," Jim said as he plopped onto the empty seat beside Frankie.

"I was," she replied. "But then he sent me a scowl. It's pretty clear that I'm not wanted right now."

"And it's really not the right place to talk," Rammer interjected.

"Case in point," Frankie said dryly, earning a sheepish smile from the younger man.

"You can talk to him tonight," Jim said. "A couple of our buddies invited us BU guys out for a few drinks at a watering hole near the hotel. Rizzo said he'll come to your room and walk you in when he gets OC."

"Planned everything, did we?" she asked, cocking up an eyebrow as she eyed the goalie.

"It's better than waiting for Mac to do something," Buzz piped up.

"You guys really need to stop eavesdropping," she whined.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Rammer quipped.

The short ride to the hotel was filled with light banter among the four, effectively getting rid of the tension they were feeling. But as soon as Frankie walked into her room, the feeling of helplessness crept back in. Attempting to gather some courage, she thought of what she needed to talk to Mac about and tried to prepare what she was going to say, hoping that whatever plan the Boston boys hatched would work and he'd hear her out. Different scenarios ran through her mind as she paced back and forth, jumping slightly when a knock sounded against her door.

"Hey Riz-" she began to say. "You're not Rizzo."

"I'm glad that your eyesight hasn't been shot to hell," Herb mused. "Why exactly were you expecting Rizzo to have been on the other side of your door?"

Frankie looked back at her uncle with a blank expression knowing full well where his thoughts were headed. "He was supposed to come by before he left with the BU guys to confirm tomorrow's schedule so he knows what limit to put on OC and Silky's fun time."

"They shouldn't even be going out," Herb grumbled.

Before he could go on a tangent about stricter curfews, she interrupted by asking why he had knocked in the first place.

"I need to talk to you about something," came the reply. "Do you mind coming to my room? Doc and Craig would be by in a bit as well."

Frankie saw Rizzo freeze from the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly and gave him a somber smile. "No problem, coach," she answered. "Just let me grab my room key. I'll be by in a bit."

"We leave at 8AM, Rizzo," Herb reminded the captain as he walked past on the way to his hotel room. "Make sure you boys are back no later than midnight."

"Yes, coach," he replied with a nod. He turned his head around when he heard the soft click of a door closing and sighed when he saw Frankie making her way over. "I thought for sure that it was gonna work."

"It's not like we could avoid each other until the Olympics," she tried to joke. "Besides, if Doc and Craig are going to Herb's room too, it must be important. I should really do my job."

"Magic says he'll try to talk to him when we leave," Silky said as he walked up. "We heard your uncle. Our door wasn't closed."

Frankie couldn't help but chuckle. "This team is filled with gossips. Does everyone know what's going on?"

"It's really hard to keep things under wraps for long when we're pretty much all attached at the hip," he replied with a shrug. "Don't stress out too much about it, alright?"

"Right now, I'm more worried about what my uncle wanted to talk about," she confessed. "And that I should really head over there before he decides to lead a search party."

"You do that," Rizzo said with a short laugh.

"You guys have fun."

"Thanks Colt," they chorused.

* * *

AN: I know, I know. I suck at updating.

Anyway, thanks to _phoenixfire53_ for and to the 2 guests for the reviews on the last chapter. Welcome to the new followers as well! :) I hope you'll spare some time to not only read but also leave a review. They might make me want to update faster, just saying. :p


	16. Broken

After months of hard training and the lines separating rival teams long gone, tensions were unusually high in the Olympic team's locker room. The boys watched on as he packed his belongings, silently nodding their acknowledgment when they were bid farewell.

"This is ridiculous," Rammer said, breaking through the silence.

"Don't worry about it Rammer, it'll be alright," Rizzo replied consolingly. "Right, OC?"

"Herb's not gonna do a damn thing, boys," OC threw out, his usual confidence shining through. "He's just messing with our minds."

"Oh, you think so Jack?" Jimmy interjected.

"Yeah, I do," came the reply, though the Bostonian defender's smirk faltered a bit at the goalie's tone.

"Well we all know Herb made the Olympic team back in 60," Jimmy pointed out.

"So?"

"So a week before the games, coach Riley calls him in his office and sends him home."

"What's your point?"

"My point, Jack, is that one week later, Herb's home on his couch with his old man watching his team win the gold medal. Come that close and get nothing? He'll do whatever it takes. That's my point."

The implication of Jimmy's words hung over them like a dark cloud, realization sinking in that, while they were all thinking only one cut was left, two of them could possibly leave due to the sudden participation of University of Minnesota's newest golden boy, Tim Harrer.

"I don't mean to drive the morale even further through the ground, but," Suter said, breaking everyone out of their thoughts. "Do you guys think Colt has something to do with this?"

"What the – where the hell do you get off with that idea?" Mac asked incredulously.

"He kinda has a point," Broten said glumly as he stepped out of the showers. "I've been to U games with Colt, remember? It's always Harrer this, Harrer that. She's acting like a puck bunny without the lewd acts. I wouldn't be surprised if she's mentioned it to Herb. And you know how much Herb trusts her judgment when it comes to hockey."

The boys exchanged glances, eyes lingering between two men who were likely to know whether or not their team manager was involved with the newest development.

"Son of a bitch," Mac grumbled under his breath. He hastily shoved his belongings into his bag and stormed out of the locker room, leaving his teammates in surprise and worry about what the winger would do.

"I think he's gonna end up doing something stupid," Rammer mumbled.

"It's Mac and it has something to do with Colt," OC pointed out. "Of course, he's gonna do something stupid."

* * *

"Has anybody been able to get him to talk?" Buzz asked as he peered over his shoulder.

No one had an idea what Mac had gotten into after storming out of the locker room, the team only seeing him again once they had gathered together for dinner, though the winger was in a sulky mood, only nodding and grunting out one-word responses whenever anyone tried to talk to him. Even with a poker game and movie night going on around him, no one can seem to get him out of his funk.

"Nah," Rizzo answered. "I'm worried that he's been like that the whole time and Colt's nowhere to be found."

"Jimmy's been going up to her room every 20 minutes or so," Silky chimed in. "He's had no luck so far. And Baker said he hasn't seen her car in the parking lot either."

"Hey guys," Pav called out with a tentative tone, the worry creasing his face raising the curiosity of the rest of the team.

"Something wrong, man?"

"I went back to Bloomington coz I forgot my wallet," he began. "And you know how far the locker room is from Herb's office, right?"

The other guys exchanged looks, most of them lost as to what the forward's point was.

"Just spit it out!"

"Man, Herb and Colt were having the biggest row," he said, eyes wide in disbelief. "I never imagined Colt would have it in her to be like that, but she was so angry."

Several of the boys went rigid at hearing about a fight between their coach and their manager. They were all aware of the kind of relationship the two have, with Herb treating Colt just like she was his own daughter, and were left in shock that there had been problems between the two.

"Did you hear what they were fighting about?" Buzz asked.

"Harrer."

_"What did you do?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Oh don't sit there like you don't know hell about what I'm asking," Frankie said through gritted teeth. "I'm asking about Harrer."_

_"What's there to ask?" Herb retorted. "He's a great player, always seems to know his place on the ice, has a good eye on the net and a huge help to his defensemen too. I vaguely remember those same words coming from your mouth, so why are you surprised that Timmy's gotten this chance?"_

_"Chance?" she scoffed. "I know he was there in Colorado and there was a damn good reason why you didn't take him for the first cut. Why now?"_

_"His game has changed since then," came the simple reply._

_"That's Silky's spot."_

_"Could be or it could be Timmy's," Herb shrugged. "Hell, he plays so well, I bet he'd be able to play Mac's spot if I told him to. That boy's been distracted lately and I can't afford to risk him being distracted during games."_

_Frankie let out a bitter sigh as she tried to calm her nerves down. "This is the reason, isn't it?" she asked. "This is why you kept telling me to go to U games, take anyone of the boys if they were willing to spend time watching instead of resting up after practice. You knew I'd talk. You knew they'd listen. And you sure as well damn knew they were going to think I had something to do with this."_

_The two stared each other down, neither wanting to be the first to break away._

_"They're mad at me, you know?" Frankie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of all the days that you had to do this, why did it have to be today?"_

_"Today? What's with today?"_

_"Oh don't you fucking dare give me that bullshit!"_

_"Language!"_

_Her jaw slackened, eyes wide in shock as her uncle gave her a pointed stare. A dry chuckle bubbled up from her chest before she visibly slumped in defeat._

_"I knew that you were gonna be a different man when you got this job. But I didn't realize that you'd completely lose yourself to this, and do things at the sacrifice of everything and everyone else just so you could get what you want. You're so into playing these head games that you were even willing to make me a scapegoat, not caring about what it would do to me." Frankie paused, taking in a shaky breath as she tried in vain to stop from tearing up. "How can you forget today?"_

"Oakland," Jimmy muttered before jumping out of his seat. "I need someone to drive me to Oakland."

"California?" Bah asked incredulously.

"No! I mean Oakland Cemetery. She's there, I know it."

"Crap," Rammer grumbled. "It's December 1."

"Just let me get my – " Baker began.

"I'll take you," Mac piped up, causing several heads to turn in surprise.

"Considering what Pav just told us and how you've been acting since you got back here, I'd guess that you two saw each other and got into your own row," Buzz mused, a dark look crossing his features. "We're going with you. Let's go."

* * *

With everyone curious and worried, the whole team piled into 2 cars and a van, and drove to Oakland Cemetery, though no one really spoke about the reason why, leaving most clueless as to what was going on. All they knew for certain was that there was a big possibility that it was where they could find Frankie.

As their convoy slowed to a stop, they took notice of how Jimmy and Mac practically flew out of the car they were riding, taking off in a run between tombstones and plots.

"Where are they going?" OC asked as he shuffled his way out of the van.

"Do we go there or do we just wait here?" Rammer wondered out loud.

"Let's go over," Baker replied. "On a day like today, Colt needs as much support as she could get."

Had there been anyone else around, it would have been a very curious sight to see a team of 21 hockey players trudging through the snow-covered cemetery, a few walking with a purpose while most followed like drones. They could see that Jimmy and Mac had stopped, all of them wondering if they found what they were looking for.

The two teammates shared a helpless glance with each other before Mac gave a subtle nod, thinking that he wasn't in any position to offer comfort just yet. Jimmy sighed and crouched down to his haunches, his hands reaching out.

Looks of surprise and sharp intakes of breath could be seen and heard among the guys when Frankie launched herself from between two tombstones and into the goalie's waiting embrace, her sobs heard clearly even when she buried her face into his chest.

Though most were still left in the dark about what was going on, they each felt their hearts breaking at the sounds of her crying. Their usually upbeat and feisty team manager – the only one they thought could stand up to Herb without facing any consequences, the one everyone looked to for strength when they were feeling down after a bad practice or game – was broken.

* * *

AN: It's been a while, hasn't it? I apologize sincerely for the huge delay. Life just got too hectic. I am really happy though that people are still reading, reviewing and curious as to when this is finally getting updated. I kept getting following/favorite alerts, which ultimately gave me the push to do this update, so thank you!

Check my profile for a more detailed update about what's happening with my stories. And as usual, please review. :)


	17. The Day Isn't Completely Lost

AN: It was awesome to read your reviews for the last chapter. I'm so happy there's a bunch of you still following this story. :) Thank you!

* * *

The ride through the streets of St. Paul were even quieter than any of them could imagine, each of their thoughts drifting about what they had been witness to. A dark cloud hung over all of them regardless of how long they have known about the burdens Frankie had been carrying around – some still couldn't fathom the new information when thinking about their team manager, and it showed in their tense posture. It had pulled at their hearts to have seen and heard the feisty and somewhat cynical girl break down into gut wrenching sobs, taking Jimmy, Mac, Buzz, Rammer and even Verchota nearly half an hour to finally get her to calm down and be convinced to be taken home. But one look at the details engraved on the headstones she had been sitting between, a flash of memory to Pav retelling what he had heard, and they all understood just how big a toll the day had taken on their beloved Colt.

Murmurs erupted when their convoy slowed to a stop in a quiet neighborhood, some eyes going wide at the estate that was in front of them.

"Holy cow! This is Colt's house? Why the heck is she staying at the dorm?"

A couple of heads nodded in agreement as their gazes swept through the expanse of the property – a huge front yard with rolling lawns lined with bushes lay in front of an elegant-looking two-storey home. It wasn't too telling of how affluent the owner of the house was, but it was enough for them to say that they had more than enough.

"Think of where we just came from, moron, and tell me why Colt would want to stay here alone," Verchota said dryly.

They sobered up quickly after that as all eyes turned to Robbie's car. Buzz had opened the back passenger side door wide open, staying clear as Jimmy slowly stepped out with a still sniffling Frankie in his arms. Mac had marched up to the house and pulled a set of keys from his pocket, quickly unlocking the front door and waving everyone in.

"Mac has a key to her house?" OC whispered, earning shrugs from some of the boys.

Buzz, Mac and Baker had taken on the roles of hosts, ushering the rest of the team into the house and telling them where to sit. Jimmy had asked where Frankie's room was, hoping to get her settled in but was stopped when she meekly spoke.

"You can put me down, Jimmy."

The goalie shot an uncertain glance towards Buzz, who nodded solemnly in response, prompting him to do as the girl had asked.

Frankie straightened out her clothes and wiped at her cheeks before looking up to meet their gazes. "I'm sorry for being such a drama queen, guys," she said with a shaky smile. "I swear it won't happen again."

Several jaws went slack, disbelief clearly showing on their faces when she had ended apologizing for emotions she needed to let out while some of them had been thinking ill of her because of the latest addition to their lineup.

"Hey Colt," Johnson called out softly, breaking through the awkward silence.

"Yeah, Magic?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

She smiled, the beauty of which never quite reaching her eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless. "I'd really love one."

Johnson calmly approached her, arms stretched out to his sides before closing in around her when he got close enough. He tucked her head under his chin and slightly swayed back and forth. "I can't say I know how you feel," he whispered. "But when you need someone to lean on, please don't forget that you have us, okay?"

"I just got done crying. Did you really have to say that?" she quipped.

"There's our girl," he said with a smile, pecking the top of her head before releasing her.

"I want to hug Colt too."

"Me too!"

"No, me first!"

Despite what the day meant for her, Frankie couldn't help but let the smile that graced her face grow wider as she watched 21 men she had come to think of as brothers engage in a playful fight.

"Are you gonna be okay for tomorrow?" Jimmy asked, wondering how she was going to deal with having to face her uncle during practice.

"Uh, about that," she began, pausing as she tried to think of the right words to say. "I actually won't be around for a bit, maybe not until after the IHL game."

"Why?" Mac piped up, the first word he had spoken to her since that afternoon.

"I have a couple of things to take care of that are long overdue," she answered. "Don't worry. I won't be leaving you guys to face the big bad wolf alone."

"So you're staying here for the night?" Buzz asked, his forehead creased in worry.

"I guess I am," she shrugged.

"Do you want me to call my mom so she can come over? Or you can go to my house instead," Mac suggested. "I'm not comfortable with you being alone here."

"Sleepover!" Verchota hollered.

"As long as none of you expect any breakfast because I don't think I have food here," Frankie muttered.

"Be serious guys," Rizzo said. "We have practice in the morning and Colt needs to sleep, which I doubt some of you will be letting her do."

"You're such a mother," OC joked.

"He's right though," Baker added. "And it's getting late. We should probably go."

Grumbles could be heard from the lot as they all stood up and made their way towards the front door, making sure to give Frankie a hug, a peck on the forehead or even just a pat on the shoulder to say goodbye. Jimmy and Mac were the last two people with her, with the goalie pulling her into his arms first, giving the winger a meaningful glance over the top of her head unbeknownst to her.

"If you need anything at all, you know where to find me, okay?" Jimmy said as he pulled back. "I'll call you from whichever place we're staying when we hit the road and you're not back yet."

She nodded, giving a small smile in reassurance and watched silently as he turned his back to step out, leaving her alone with Mac.

"I'm sorry."

Frankie turned her head slightly, waiting to see if he was going to continue.

"I was out of line earlier," he went on, his words coming out in a rush. "I was mad at the situation and I had no right to just go off on you and say those things like it were your fault or that you're doing it on purpose to hurt us."

She opened her mouth to say something but was unable to speak when he decided to keep talking.

"And I know it's none of my business whether or not you and Jimmy are dating," he said, his words slurring together as his speech sped up even more. "If the two of you are happy, and it's not messing with the team, then it's cool."

"Talk to Herb," she said, not acknowledging the things he said. "Harrer being around is just another test for you guys," she continued staring out into her driveway where the rest of the boys seemed to be discussing who was riding with whom. "Show him just what kind of team you are, on and off the ice."

Mac nodded, having no idea what else to say. He wouldn't be surprised if she was still mad at him for the things he said that afternoon on top of everything she had gone through for the day. He hadn't truly intended to blow up at her, but when they bumped into each other and she had shot him a smile, his mind had translated it into a smug expression, his thoughts tainted by the idea that she was responsible for putting Harrer on Herb's radar.

The honk of a car horn interrupted the awkward silence, making him shuffle on his feet and bid her a quick goodbye, his hand barely grazing her shoulder in a tentative pat.

"Hey Robbie," she called out just as he was halfway down the drive.

"Yeah?"

"Jimmy and I aren't dating," she replied.

"What?"

"Now there's no reason for you to be distracted," Frankie said with a wistful smile. "Go get 'em."


	18. Wants and Needs

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of metal crashing against the floor, her face scrunched up in confusion as her mind registered that it was already day time. The last thing she remembered was seeing the Olympic hockey team out the door, but there she was struggling to get up off of her own bed after a fitful night of sleep. She tiredly ran her palms down her face and heaved a sigh before trudging her way to the en suite bathroom. Turning on the tap, she splashed water on her face, hoping that the cold temperature could jolt her further into being awake.

"Coffee," she murmured as made her way down the stairs, the inviting smell of breakfast being cooked wafting up from the kitchen.

"Good morning Frankie!" greeted two cheerful voices as she appeared in the entryway.

"Hey, squirts," she mumbled, making up for her less than lively greeting by ruffling their hair. "Good morning Aunt Patti."

Her aunt placed a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of an empty seat before greeting her back, her smile tight and her eyes wary. "Elizabeth called me."

"Let me guess," Frankie began to say as she pulled out her seat at the table. "Robbie called her last night and told her what happened, which she in turn told you."

Patti's eyes dimmed and her smile dissipated into a grim line, telling of the conflict that she was feeling. "We'll talk more after we drop off Danny and Kelly at the sitter's," she said, not wanting to say anything incriminating in front of the two young children. Neither of them was aware of any troubles between their parents, nor were they aware of what their cousin had gone through the day prior. And she preferred to keep it that way, not wanting the image of their father to be tainted. "In the meantime, eat your breakfast and make sure you finish all of them. We have a lot to do today."

* * *

"You alright, Rizzo?"

"I'm fine Buzzy, thanks for asking," the team captain replied sullenly, contradicting his own statement.

"Has anyone seen Bakes?"

"Herb wanted to talk to him."

The sound of a collective intake of breath could be heard. Their thoughts drifting to the possibility that the missing defensive player could end up being cut. The din in the locker room dissolved into a tense silence, a few eyes shifting to the locker Harrer had claimed, tearing their glances away just as the Gopher exited the showers. None of them could really look at the guy as a member of the team just yet, and they'd probably protest the idea silently until the day Herb decides on the final roster. They knew that it was unfair to the young hockey player. It wasn't his fault that he was good at what he does and that it got him on the coach's radar, but if anyone was to ask any of the guys that had been there since the first day of training, Tim Harrer was not a name you'd see listed as a member of the 1980 Winter Olympics hockey team.

"See ya, boys," Tim said softly, murmuring the same farewell as he had the first day he came in.

"I think he knows we don't exactly like him being around," Rammer said a few moments after the door had shut behind his Gopher teammate.

"A blind guy can see that," OC quipped. "I just wish Herb saw that too."

Just as a few others had nodded their agreement, Baker had stomped back into the locker room, his eyes a stormy blue, telling of a conflict that was running through his mind.

"You okay, man?"

"Herb just told me that he's making me alternate captain," he replied through gritted teeth.

Rizzo's shoulders slumped further than any of them thought possible. They all knew that he wasn't amongst the best players on the team, but not once did they ever think of the probability that their captain was at the risk of being cut. The fact that Herb had already named an alternate made the possibility even more likely, much to their disheartenment.

* * *

"I'm sorry that I didn't come over for dinner, Danny," she sighed into the phone. "But your mom and I did a lot today, so I just wanted to go home and rest. Don't pretend that you didn't like the fact that you got a few extra slices of pizza coz I wasn't there." Frankie smiled to herself when she heard her cousin's chuckle over the phone. "Go get cleaned up for bed, it's getting late."

"_Okay, Frankie_," he replied. "_Love you, bye! Kelly says the same. Here's mom again._"

"_Honey, are you sure you're gonna be fine there on your own?_" her aunt asked, her concern evident coming over the line.

"I'll be fine, you don't have to worry," she assured.

"_I'll come over again tomorrow to help you with things._"

"It's okay, really. You've already helped a lot. I think I can handle things from here on out."

"_Nonsense!_" Patti chastised lightly. "_Things can go faster if there are more hands to help. And I'm sure Danny and Kelly would love to help in any way they can too._"

"And so you can make sure that I don't break down, right?"

"_Sweetheart_," her aunt sighed.

"No, I'm sorry," Frankie said, letting out a puff of breath.

"_Are you sure this is what you want to do? It's not too late yet, we can still tell Mr. Keller that you've changed your mind._"

"I'm sure about this, Aunt Patti," she replied firmly. "I need to do this."

Her aunt sighed deeply, resigned to the fact that her niece had made up her mind and there was no changing it. She smiled wistfully thinking how she shared the quality with a few other people. "_You sound just like your mom and uncle._"

"I guess it runs in the family," Frankie quipped. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aunt Patti. Goodnight."

She waited for the dial tone to reach her ear before hanging the receiver back on the cradle, only to pick it up a split second later and dialing the number for Jimmy's room at Sanford. She tapped her foot against the kitchen floor as the phone rang, finally giving up after the tenth ring with still no answer. Her lips pursed and brows furrowed as she carefully thought about making another call. Without much else to lose, she dialed the next number.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey Magic," she greeted, mustering up some cheer. "I'm sorry, were you waiting for Leslie's call?"

"_Hey Colt_," he greeted back warmly. "_I actually just hung up with her. What's up?_"

"I just wanted to check in with you guys. I actually called Jimmy's room but there wasn't any answer so I thought I'd give Mac a try."

"_Yeah_," he said, drawing out the word into one long sound, piquing her interest.

"What happened?"

The star center gave her a rundown of how practice had gone earlier that day. From how Herb had practically told Rizzo that he should be getting ready to head home to putting Harrer on Johnson's line instead of Silky to how Baker had been named the alternate captain – he spared no details. "_So since Rizzo's been feeling down, a bunch of the guys decided to take him out for a few rounds, get him drunk enough to just pass out when they get back instead of toss and turn over what tomorrow may bring_," Johnson finished.

"Is that smart? You have a travel day tomorrow after all."

"_He can sleep on the bus_," he replied. "_We'll miss some of your snacks though._"

Frankie let out a small laugh. She could imagine the impish smile that the player was likely sporting at the hint about her cooking.

"That was your way of telling me that you want some treats for when you come back, wasn't it?" she said dryly.

"_You know it!_" he replied, uncharacteristically admitting to it without shame. "_No one takes care of us like you do, Colt_," he finished with sincerity.

"I know we haven't known each other for that long, but I can honestly say that I see you guys as family," she said honestly.

"I think of you like a sister too, you know?" he replied in a sheepish tone.

"Do me a favor, Magic."

"_Anything._"

"Talk to Uncle Herb," she said simply. "Tell him exactly how you feel about what's going on. Show him what kind of team you want to be part of."

"_What if he doesn't want to hear it?_" he asked, his fear apparent in his voice.

"He'll listen," she replied firmly. "Trust me."


	19. Where You Need to Be

AN: Sorry for the bit of the wait. This chapter features another integral part of the movie and I wanted to take my time with it so I could make sure that I get the emotions right.

Thank you to everyone that has left reviews and sent messages. It's much appreciated!

Without further ado, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey Magic, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Can you take my gear up to our room? I'm gonna go see – "

Johnson held up a hand, interrupting the winger. "I have no problem doing that as long as you do me a favor," he stated, his steely eyes focused on his teammate. "Make sure you get your head out of your ass before you start talking to her."

Mac's jaw dropped, eyes wide in disbelief that the usually quiet center who didn't have anything bad to say about anyone had been so forward and was now smirking at him in amusement. The teasing laughter of several of their teammates shook him out of his thoughts, flashing them a one-fingered salute as he trudged towards the door of Sanford Hall.

As soon as he was through the door, he took off for the stairway like a shot, taking the steps two at a time as if he hadn't skated a full game against the IHL All-Stars just a few hours prior. The soreness in his legs were no match for the adrenaline coursing through him as each step he took brought him closer to his destination. He skidded to a halt just a few feet before where he wanted to be, trying to regain his normal breathing by taking a few calming breaths. Taking the last few steps, he bit down on his lower lip in nervousness as his eyes traced the number 35 nailed on the door. After one last deep breath, he raised his fist and rapped a beat against the one thing separating him from the person he wanted to see.

He leaned his head closer to the door, ears straining to hear any movement from the other side to no avail. He knocked again, brows furrowing at each second that passed without an answer. He looked up with hopeful smile when he heard the turning of a knob, only to be disappointed when it was the door across the one he was standing in front off that opened.

"Oh hey Mac," the brunette greeted with a warm smile. "How'd the game go?"

"It was good," he answered politely. "We won."

"Really? That's awesome!" she marveled. "I bet Frankie will love to hear about that."

"It's why I'm here," he replied. "But I think she's already asleep."

"Oh!" the girl said, eyes going wide as if she had just realized something. "I don't think she's in there. I've heard her come and go over the past few days but I actually think she's been staying at home or with Mrs. Brooks."

"Oh, okay," he said a little dejectedly. "Thanks."

Mac turned to leave before she could say anything else. He pushed his hands into his pockets, his right hand coming into contact with a set of keys. He froze at the top of the stairs as he mentally went over whether or not he had enough gas in his car before racing down the stairwell, barely missing a few of his teammates who had been making their way up.

"Where are you going?" Buzzy screamed after him.

"St. Paul!"

* * *

"_You need to be here, Colt_," OC stated. "_Seriously, this is better told with everyone around than over the phone._"

"_If she ends up driving back here at this time of the night, I'm gonna kill you OC_," Jimmy's voice filtered through.

Frankie could barely understand what the defender from Boston was saying as his words slurred together with all his excitement, never mind hearing the rest of his buddies screaming to be heard on the phone from their respective spots around the room. "I had a couple of things I needed to get done here at home," she replied, interrupting a playful argument between the players. "Had I known that so much excitement was gonna go down, I would've made a mad dash to welcome you home with open arms."

"_Oh sweetheart, that would have been fantastic_," OC quipped, picking up on her joking tone. "_It'll be like one of those slow motion moments in movies where we run at each other and I sweep you in my arms before riding off into the sunset._"

The two shared a chuckle, her smile widening when she heard a chorus of other voices joining in.

"So what happened?"

"_We're standing out in the cold, right?_" OC began, his excitement once again transcending the phone line. "_Finally, Herb gets off the bus and heads straight towards us. And right at the get-go, he starts tearing into us._"

_"This had better take about two minutes," Herb said sternly. His gaze travelled at the four players standing before him, taking in the looks of frustration and anxiety clearly etched on their features._

_"This is crazy Herb, bringing him in this late," OC began._

_"We've got parents buying tickets and they're getting rooms," Mac continued. "I mean, what are we supposed to tell them?"_

_"With one of us going home as it is," OC trailed._

_It took everything in him to hold back his surprise at how the two players who everyone had long written off to never be able to work well together speaking their thoughts as a cohesive unit. The thought made him want to smile, seeing just how far they've come, but he stopped himself before doing so, knowing there was still a matter to be taken care of._

_"I guess I don't have to ask where you stand on this, huh Rizzo?" Herb said, singling out the captain once again._

_"This wasn't Rizzo's idea," Mac defended._

_Fearful as he was, he no longer wanted to remain silent and just keep on taking the hits from his coach. But he couldn't bring himself to show exactly how angry he was, opting to go for the truth instead. "You want me to say I'm scared of getting cut? I'm scared of getting cut. Everybody is."_

_"We just want it to be fair, Herb," OC added, his voice taking on a slightly pleading tone._

_"Don't even try telling me that," Herb said warningly. "He was right there in Colorado!"_

_His words had sparked something in the four players, Rizzo being the first to snap. "That was six months ago," he said, not believing that the one-day scrimmage they had was enough of a basis for the coach to make such a drastic move that affected the whole team._

_"Oh you don't think he's been playing for the last six months?"_

_"Not with us, he hasn't."_

_"So?"_

_"So there's a difference!"_

_"Like hell there is! All I know is that kid can flat out play!"_

_"What and we can't?" OC interjected, clearly offended at their coach's choice of words._

_"He moves the puck, he's got great vision on the ice, stick, soft hands –"_

_"That's not the point!" Mac exclaimed, interrupting the blatant praise of Harrer. He knew the kid from playing with the Gophers and he had nothing against him. He thought he was as good a hockey player as Herb was saying. But he wasn't an Olympic hockey player._

_"I'll tell you something else he's got," Herb said, his gaze hardening. "He's got the attitude I want on and off the ice, so somebody here better explain to me why I shouldn't be giving him a hell of a look!"_

_Johnson had remained quiet throughout the whole discussion. He wasn't one for confrontation, and was really only there to provide support for the others. But hearing how Herb had repeatedly torn down Rizzo's ability to play and how he had disregarded OC and Mac's worries during their few minutes of talking had rubbed him wrong. These were his teammates, his friends, his brothers._

_"Because we're a family," he firmly stated._

_"What?" Herb asked._

_OC, Rizzo and Mac snapped their heads toward their star center, surprised that he spoke, even more so about what he said. But Johnson had remained calm even under their scrutinizing gaze, his eyes locking into Herb's challengingly._

_"We're a family," he repeated with more conviction._

_"A family," Herb reiterated._

_The four boys looked at each other before voicing their agreement. The two coaches shared a quick glance, both trying to hide their pleasure at hearing it._

_"And this is the family that you wanna go to Lake Placid with?" Herb prodded._

_"Definitely."_

_"Yeah, without a doubt."_

_"Absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_"Timmy Harrer can help us boys," Herb said. Before the boys can start up another argument, he continued to say what he was certain they had been hoping for. "And I'm gonna send him home."_

_OC, Rizzo, Johnson and Mac shared glances filled with confusion and surprise at the coach's decision. But it was also mixed with a sense of happiness and pride that they had managed to fight for their team._

_"We've got one more to get to 20. You understand?"_

_"Yep."_

_With that, Herb and Craig walked back towards the bus, leaving the boys to have a short celebration by finally breaking out into smiles and patting each other on the back._

_"Where the hell did you get that line about being a family from, Magic?" OC asked. His tone was teasing but his smile and his eyes showed that he genuinely felt the same._

_"It was something Colt said to me the other day," Johnson replied with a shrug. "I just now realized what she meant."_

Frankie's smile stretched from ear to ear as OC finished recounting what had happened that got her uncle to finally reveal his plans for Harrer. She knew all along that it was the best possible endgame he had in mind, knowing that if he had decided to keep Timmy on, and let go of two others who had been playing together for months, that the team wouldn't be as cohesive a unit as they could be.

"_Which brings me to ask_," OC said, pulling her out of her reverie. "_What did you tell Magic?_"

"Nothing that wasn't true," she quipped. "I ended up talking to him the other night and thanked him for being there that day. He said something about taking care of me the same way I've been taking care of you guys. It's something family does. Something like that."

"_You know we'd do it for you any time_," he said softly. "_You're part of my crazy family too, Colt._"

"_Mine too_," Silky said, his voice travelling from somewhere across the room. "_Can she be my wife?_"

"_Jimmy's got dibs_," Rizzo quipped.

"_Not if Mac can help it_," the goalie joked back.

"I'm hanging up now," Frankie said, shaking her head even though they couldn't see her.

"_No, wait_," OC said. "_When are you coming back to the dorms? We wanted to have a celebratory dinner or something. We're cooking, don't worry. We just want you to be there._"

"I'll be back by – what the?"

"_What is it?_" OC asked, abruptly pulling himself up into a sitting position. His worried expression had the other three players look at him in confusion.

"Someone's at the door," she replied.

"_Someone's at the door this late?_" OC wondered. His eyes met Jimmy's from across the room, eyebrows shooting up when he saw the goalie mouth Mac's name.

"Do I hang up and call you back or are you gonna stay on the line while I check who it is?" Frankie asked.

"_Oh, um_," he stammered. "_Let's hang up and you just call me if you need anything, alright? I expect you here soon, young lady_," he joked.

She chuckled before agreeing.

"_And Frankie_," he called out before she had decided to hang up. "_If he makes you cry, you tell me, alright? I'll punch him for you. Bye!_"

"What? Hello? Jack?" She pulled the receiver away from her ear and looked at it curiously. If it wasn't enough to hear him call her Frankie, him offering to punch someone about making her cry had her all sorts of confused. But before she could dwell on it any more, another round of knocking came, reminding her why she had needed to hang up with the Bostonian defender in the first place. "Just a second," she called out.

She quickly put the receiver back in its place and shuffled out of the kitchen. Her gaze travelled to the grandfather clock in the hallway, noting how late in the night it was, making her furrow her brows in anxiety as to who was at the door. She took a breath before taking a peek at her visitor from the peephole. A gasp bubbled up from her throat when her mind registered what she was seeing, her hands quickly flying to the doorknob to pull it open.

"Robbie."


End file.
